Memory List

I know the assignment was about a memory list, but coming up with memories is very painful for me to do. There's like a block the size of the Berlin wall that enables me to do so, because metaphorically I died inside, and was born again. All a result of this particular memory.

It was a friday night, August 30th, 2008, and of coarse I was planning on going to a party, or chilling with a couple of people. DIdn't end up finding anything to do, so I stayed at my friend's house. It's about 1:30 am, and I call my younger brother Garrett, who's 16. to see what he was doing. Me and him weren't doing very good lately, so I thought maybe I could go to wherever he was to chill, or at least make sure he was home. Considering the fact it was 1:30, he should have been home, because my mom makes him come home at 12. Dial tone, but no answer. That was strange to me, because he always answers, or at least calls back. So about an hour or two goes by, and I decide to go on home. I live in a small suburban town of Columbus, and that night it seemed more quiet than usual, the ill type of quiet that gives you the impression your not the only one around. I get home, go upstairs. and open his door. He's not there. It's 3:30 am. "He must be spending the night with wayne", I thought. My mothers already sleep. So I get all comfy in my bed, turn the lights off and start to dose off. Nobody ever knows the exact time they fell asleep. So I drift off for who knows how long, and I hear this voice in the distance. Sounded blurry, so I thought it was apart of my dream, even though I wasn't having one. I hear it again. Its saying my name. I wake up and realize it's a distressed call from my mom downstairs. She said the cops are here and to come down, you might want to hear this. So I grab my pillow for reasons I still don't know, but I think it was my unconscience mind telling me to get something you'll be able to embrace. I walk downstairs, and there's two policeman standing at the door, and one in a suit, kind of heavy set, with glasses. "Is Garrett in some type of trouble, did he get caught for curfew, you'd have to call his dad about all this because he's a police officer and I don't know how to deal with any of this", my mom says. "Describe your son Ma'am" She describes him, and they look ath the ground. "Ma'am, do you have any pictures of Garrett" he then replies. "Well sure, right here, but what does that have to do with anything, tell me what the hells going on with my son". Those words lit a short fuse to an atom bomb ready to explode and destroy any normalness we once knew. What came next was like the secret password to open a door in hell full of demons whose purpose was to come make my mind the terrible place it is today. "Ma'am, Garrett's dead".