I lost my brother to suicide on February 1st 2019, I was only 12 years old. I still am 12 years old. He was found on February 2nd, that was day my life fell apart. I would not like to go into detail about how, why, and multiple other things in respect of his privacy. (He was a very private person, also paranoid) but one thing I will always remember about that day is the call. I was out with my friends roller skating. Crazy enough that same night I almost hyperextend my knee, I thought that it was the worst thing that could happen that night. Little did I know I was so terribly wrong. I remember calling my mom and saying that I needed her to come get me. Then when it had been about 15 minutes I called her in pain asking where she was, I honestly thought something was wrong and I was worried about her being hurt. Looking back now I was right but it was a wrong type of hurt. I called her again when it had been almost an hour. That’s when I was told my brother had been missing for the past 6 and a half hours. I was already crying from my knee but suddenly I was out. Not passed out but I realized about 3 months later that I was having a panic attack. I couldn’t really hear it was muffled and covered by my thoughts, I could see for I was crying hysterically. Friends didn’t know what happening since I couldn’t bring myself to speak. Finally when I got my words out they just went silent I don’t blame them I didn’t know what to say in that moment either. There not very much more in my story that I feel comfortable sharing except for one thing. When you think of your siblings you think of them in the way you remember the happy, exciting, always full of life people. Then suddenly when you see them laying in their coffin it’s like that’s the only thing you can see. One final thing. And I don’t know if other people can relate to this or if they can’t it really just depends on the way the person passed, but when you look at photos you see one person and when you see they in their caskets you see another. I remember I started to have a small panic attack and all I could keep saying was it doesn’t look like him, it’s not him, no this isn’t him, they put too much makeup, why do you look different, this isn’t ok, and more that I can’t think of. Thank you for listening to my story.