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I used to hate him for it When he took his life I saw him as a selfish parasite. We had survived hell together (actual physical hell) and I thought he was a coward for leaving me to finish the walk alone. I spent six years carrying that anger like a stone.
I’m 23 now and the stone has turned into a mountain I realized now my older brother was not a coward at all. He was just the first one of us to realized that once you’ve been through what we’ve been you never actually come back.
I lived through the war against ISIS. My father got shot defending our village and died shortly after while my brother took two bullets but survived back then. I still taste the copper I remember my childhood friend screaming his lungs out with a melted face because of the white phosphorus in 2017. I witnessed the deaths of dozens of friends and family members. I’m not in the mood to give you every detail it wouldn't matter anyway cuzIf you haven't smelled charred skin and wet concrete, you’ll never understand the kind of silence that follows.
I am at the lowest point a human being can reach. I deleted all my social media months ago; I couldn't stand seeing people "living." I recently downloaded this app just to waste time, trying to post in subreddits for my old hobbies‚ things I used to love before the world broke but I felt like a ghost haunting my own life. I have nothing in common with people who haven't seen the sky fall.
My mother thinks I’m still at university, building a future for us. She doesn’t know I dropped out two years ago She doesn’t know I spend 13 hours a day breaking my back in a warehouse for a handful of coins just to make a living‚ Every morning I lie to her face, and every night I come home too tired to even feel like a person. I am 23, but I feel a hundred years old I am about to give up. Literaly.
The only thing stopping me is my little sister. There is a 15-year gap between us. She doesn’t remember the smoke or the screaming. She just knows that I’m the one who fixes her toys and makes sure theres milk in the fridge.
But I look at her I shake. She’s only eight. If I go now, she will have absolutely nobody to have her back when she grows up.
I am trapped. I’m staying for her, but I am a dead man walking. Me and my gun have been making eye contact for hours. I can’t. I just can’t I wish I was never born