Hello

Hello, my name is David. I'm 13 years old and stand at about five foot ten inches. I have dark brown hair and emerald green eyes. This story is about my life, and how I got to where I am right now. I don't promise this story is happy, because it isn't. But I also don't ask for your sympathy. I simply want to tell you my story and then some. In order, though, for you to understand me completely I really should start from the beginning. Mind you I don't care for my beginning because of its contents. However, I must start somewhere so where better.

I was born David Cody Shepard to a Kimberly and Paul Shepard. They had wanted a child so badly and I was the answer to their prayers. They were very loving and never made me feel unwanted. My mother and father were good people in anyone's opinion, or at least the opinion of those who knew them. And for the first four years of my life everything was grand, as it should be for young boys. Apart from my home life I spent a good deal of time at my mother's friend's house. Her name was Jenny Gourlay and she lived right down the street and much to my delight she had two sons. The oldest was named Tyler and was a good five years older than me, while his younger brother Jeremy was my age. In fact we were only one month apart with him being the older of the two of us. Jeremy and me became close friends and always seemed to be together doing something, and Tyler always seemed to be watching over us. I thought that life would always be like it was; my best friends live just down the street, my parents always being there for me, and me not having a care in the world. Then reality gave me a swift kick in the butt.

On my fifth birthday my parents had to leave to go see my grandmother, who was dying in the hospital. They left me at Jenny's and then went to the airport to catch their plane. That was the last time I ever saw them, their plain crashed over Pennsylvania somewhere. Needless to say I was distraught, I didn't know how to act. I kept expecting them to come back but I also knew they never would. My parents, being the brilliant people they were, had made arrangements for if something ever happened to them. Everything was to be left to me and I was to be left to Jenny. To make things easier Jenny went ahead and adopted me as her son, which made both her boys my brothers. Jeremy and Tyler rose to the occasion by comforting me and accepting me. They stuck by me through all of this and we became inseparable.

Soon I pushed thoughts of my parents to the back of my mind and decided to move on. I started calling Jenny mom. We kept my old house and just rented it out every now and then just in case some day I decided I still wanted it. Life slowly went on and I started to enjoy my life again. (Oh, I forgot to mention that Jenny's husband had moved out and wanted nothing to do with any of them a year after Jeremy and me were born.) But then I turned twelve and my hormones started to kick in. And while Jeremy seemed to be getting interested in girls, like our brother Tyler, I was not. No, instead I started to become interested in other guys. As you can imagine, this scared the shit out of me. I knew I was suppose to be interested in girls and what made it even worse was the fact that I was falling for my brother Jeremy! For a whole year I struggled with the fact that I knew I was gay, I still didn't want to believe it myself. I started to become depressed and very short tempered. I pushed everyone away and everyone I lived with seemed to notice but didn't say anything to me. That is until Tyler became really concerned about me and sat me down to talk...

I was in my bedroom doing my homework when there came a knock at my door.

"David? It's me, Tyler, can I come in?" I heard Tyler say.

I set down my pencil and replied, "Sure, come on in."

Tyler came in and closed the door behind him. This instantly told me he wanted to talk because normally he never shut the door unless it was important. He came over and sat on the edge of my bed, so I turned around in my desk chair to look at him.

"Is something wrong?" I asked him.

"I should be asking you that question," said Tyler.

"What do you mean?" I replied.

"Don't give me that. You have been moping around here for a while now, you seem depressed, you never want to do anything anymore, and you tend to lose it every time we ask you something. What gives?"

Suddenly I realized he was right. I was neglecting everyone and everything. But I had a good reason, or I thought it was good. But I couldn't tell anyone, especially my brothers, how would they react?

I stared at my feet and didn't respond.

"Come on David, open up. Tell me what's wrong, you know you can trust me," coaxed Tyler.

I looked up at him for a moment and studied him. He was a well-built 18-year-old and I was afraid he might hurt me but more importantly I didn't want him to hate me. So I looked back down at my shoes. "I can't tell you Ty. I just can't do it. You'll hate me and I don't want that."

"What makes you think I would hate you?" asked Tyler in a very concerned voice.

"Because I already know what you think about the subject and I know you would hate me."

"David, you're my brother. I could never hate you," said Tyler.

Well I don't know why I did it but I decided to believe him. I really did want to tell him but I also knew what he called people like me and what he thought about gays.

So, still staring at my shoes, I told him. "Tyler, I...I...I'm gay."

I heard him breath in sharply and reply, "What did you say?"

I still didn't want to look up at him and I didn't want to repeat it so I just sat there.

"So my little brother is a faggot. A little fudge packing faggot," he said coldly as he jumped up off the bed. "You're right, I do hate you. We take you in and you turn out to be a fucking homosexual."

I could feel tears forming in my eyes and I felt them slowly run down my face. I told him, but why? I knew he would reject me.

"What a disappointment. I expected more from such a smart kid. Wait until mother hears about this. God, David, you're a damn faggot," Tyler went on harshly. "I don't know what to say."

He ran over, opened the door, and was gone. I heard him cursing all the way to the front door and I heard the door slam behind him as he left the house, got in his car and screeched out of the driveway.

I sat there for a moment motionless and then I broke down crying. I heard Jeremy come in and ask me what happened but I just continued to cry. He tried his best to comfort me but with little success.

Hours went by and mom finally came home. She asked Jeremy and me where our brother was, but all I could do was break down crying again. They were both genuinely concerned about me and asked me what was wrong but I didn't tell them, I couldn't tell them. I would just wait until Tyler came home.

But he never came home and later that night we got a phone call from the police. Tyler had gotten in a car accident and had to be rushed to the hospital, where he was pronounced dead on arrival. My mother broke down crying when she heard this and Jeremy went to her to try and comfort her. I, however, didn't move from my seat on the couch. I couldn't move, I didn't know what to do. Tyler was dead and it was beginning to sink in. I suddenly realized that it was my fault. He was dead because of me. He left the house because of me. I had killed my older brother.

I didn't move from my spot for hours and finally after Jeremy had gotten mom to bed he came to ask me again what had happened.

"David, why did Ty leave today? What did you two argue about?" asked Jeremy.

I stared off into space and shook my head.

"David, I have a right to know. He got killed today because he left the house. I want to know what it was you two were talking about."

"I can't tell you, I'll lose you too," I whispered.

Jeremy stood there for a moment and then left me where I was. I stayed there all night and the next morning I was as unable to be motivated as my mother. At least she got up and ate something. But I didn't move. I stayed there for the rest of that day until I couldn't stay awake any longer and someone carried me to my bed.

We had the funeral that Saturday. It was a beautiful service and all of Tyler's friends showed up. He was so mangled that we had to have a closed casket service. After the service, when we were back at our house, Jeremy again tried to ask me what Tyler and I and argued about but I still wouldn't tell him. I just couldn't bring myself to do it. This time, though, Jeremy got angry with me. He told me, in a very wordy way, that I was responsible for Tyler's death and that I should rot in hell. I didn't argue with him about that. I knew I had killed Tyler.

A month went by and mom slowly returned to her normal self. She was sad from time to time but she knew she still had us to take care of so she moved on. Jeremy started saying less and less to me. He would only talk to me if he had to and it was always a one-word answer. Finally he stopped talking to me completely.

One day, a month after it happened, I decided I would try and tell Jeremy what happened. I went to his room and was about to start to explain. But when I opened my mouth the words just wouldn't come out. I stood there for a minute in silence with him just staring at me. Then Jeremy lost his temper.

"What do you want? If you have nothing to tell me then get the hell out of here!"

It was very much unlike him to yell at me but I did just what he asked. I went to my room and decided I couldn't take the guilt anymore. I wrote a two letters. The first one was to my mom, Jenny. I told her my story and how I couldn't live with myself now. I ended it with "I love you".

The second letter was to Jeremy. And I wrote:

Dear Jeremy,

If you're reading this letter then I am most likely dead, or at least I hope I am. I am truly sorry for what happened to Tyler, I know it's my fault. Since I couldn't tell you what happened in person I will explain it to you now. You see Tyler, being who he was, noticed I was depressed (I am sure you too have noticed). He asked me the day he died what was wrong and for some unknown reason I told him. I was pretty sure I knew how he would react and from where I sit now I know I was right. You see, Jeremy, I told him I was gay. That was all I said but that was enough. He called me a little fudge-packing faggot and then walked out of my room. I should never have told him, I am sorry. What makes this even worse is what I didn't tell him. You see the reason I have been so depressed is that I am not only gay but I fell in love with another boy. A boy I know I can't have and who I'm not good enough for anyway. I fell for you, Jeremy. I am sorry. I didn't mean to, nor did I mean to turn out gay. I accept full responsibility for Tyler's death and I am sorry I can't make things right. Hate me forever if you want but I will always love you. Please forgive me for what I am about to do. I just can't live with myself for hurting you and I can't live with you not talking to me. You and mom are the only family I have left and without you it's just mom. I have already written a letter to her telling her how sorry I am. If you find me and my letters first then please make sure she gets hers. Again, I am sorry. I love you.

Your Brother,
David

I put them in two separate envelopes and addressed them to who they were for. Then I went to bed.

The next day, when I came home from school, I retrieved the letters and some rope from the garage. I always got home before Jeremy by about fifteen minutes because he liked to walk so I knew I didn't have much time. I went into the living room and tied the rope to one of the rafters that were exposed at the ceiling. I set the letters on a table next to where I would hang from and then got up on my chair and tightened the rope around my neck. I breathed deeply one last time and then kicked the chair out from under myself. Unfortunately I did not fall hard enough to break my neck and so I hung there choking to death.

Suddenly I heard someone scream from behind me. I had turned away from the door so I could not see who it was but I heard them rush to the kitchen. I heard them grab a knife from the butchers block. And just before I passed out I heard the chair I had stood upon being straitened up and they were cutting at the rope to try and get me down. I felt myself fall to the floor and then I blacked out.

I slowly came to and began to open my eyes. Everything was blurry and seemed to spin. I closed my eyes again and took a deep breath. As I sat there I slowly became aware of my other senses. I definitely knew I wasn't at home anymore because not only was the room way too cold but it was a bit drafty in my lower region. My neck felt like it was on fire and I felt air blowing gently up my nose. My right hand was ice cold, but surprisingly enough my left hand felt warm. I slowly opened my eyes again and let the room come into focus. As everything cleared up I instantly knew I was in a hospital room. It must have been nighttime because the room was somewhat dark except for a dim light over my bed. I looked around the room and found my mother sleeping in a chair in the corner. She looked so peaceful cuddled up under her favorite travel blanket. I then looked down at my right hand. No wonder it was cold, there was an IV stuck in my arm letting room temperature liquids in. I also saw that my arm was strapped down. I suppose it was for my own good but it still made me uncomfortable. Then I looked over at my left hand and there he was. He was clutching my hand and resting his head on my bed. His other hand was resting next to him and clenched in his fist was a piece of paper. I instantly recognized it was the letter I wrote him. But if he had read it then way was Jeremy still here? Why was he sitting here with me, holding my hand? I looked back at his face and admired him. I thought he was beautiful, with his blond hair and, when they were open, blue eyes. His facial features were absolutely perfect in my opinion and because he was asleep and perfectly relaxed he had a calming angelic look about him.

"Good morning," someone suddenly said.

I turned my head to find a nurse standing in the doorway.

"It's good to see that you're awake. My name is Patty and I'm your nurse for this morning. How are you feeling Mr. Gourlay?" said the nurse as she came up to my bed.

I opened my mouth to speak but my throat was too dry.

"I'll get you some water Mr. Gourlay," said the nurse seeing my distress. "I imagine your neck hurts," she said as she put the cup to my lips.

I willingly drank the water and then tried again.

"Yes Ma'am, it does," I said in a very quiet and scratchy voice.

"I'll bet it does," replied Patty as she set my cup down, "Will you need anything else Mr. Gourlay?"

"No Ma'am but thank you," I said.

"If he needs anything we'll let you know," I heard my mother say.

I turned my head to find her sitting up in her chair, folding her blanket.

"Very well Mrs. Gourlay," said Patty as she left the room.

My mother set down her blanket and then looked up at me.

She smiled, "I'm glad you're okay."

I opened my mouth to speak but Jeremy began to stir.

"He needs to talk to you before I do," my mother said as she quickly stood to leave, "I think I'll go to the cafeteria and find something for breakfast."

She left the room just as Jeremy lifted his head off the bed. He looked around the room for a moment and then at me. Our eyes locked for a brief second and then he jumped up and threw his arms around me the best he could.

"David, oh David," he said, "You're awake."

I hugged him back the best I could but being tied to the bed does limit me. When he finally let me go and sat back he had tears in his eyes.

"Don't you ever do that to me again! Do you have any idea how I felt when I came through our front door to find you hanging from the ceiling? I almost lost you! You and mom are the only family I have left, what would I do without you?"

I looked down at his hand, the one with the letter in it and then back up at him.

"Yes," he said, "I read the letter. I'm sorry you feel so guilty but Tyler's death isn't your fault. He chose to leave the house. I'm sorry that I blamed you, I shouldn't have done that. I shouldn't have been such an ass to you to begin with. I was just so mad that you wouldn't tell me what happened that I pushed you away. Hell, I pushed you to this! To you trying to kill yourself! I'm so sorry David, please forgive me!"

Tears were streaming down his face as he looked back at me.

"Why are you still here?" I asked him.

He looked shocked, "What do you mean? Why would I leave you?"

"Because I'm gay!" I shouted at him.

"Oh that," he said as he slumped back into his chair. "David, I don't care that you're gay. You're my brother and closest friend, I love you. I just don't love you in a romantic way. I am flattered that you like me like that though. If I were gay then I would consider myself lucky to have you as a boyfriend."

To Be Continued...