Big Bro
He's ten years older than me, and was an independent teen, so we never got to know each other as brothers (and are still as distant as ever). That having been said, he's affected my life a lot more than i have his.

One of the problems in life he faces is a 15-year-old heroin addiction that needs an endless supply of money to feed. This led him to steal lots of things from lots of people; our grandmother, charity boxes, empty houses at Christmas, and of course my parents. I didn't get off scot-free even though a 17 year old lad generally doesn't have much to steal from.

But i did have one thing.

My grandfather, who died long ago in the sixties, played the violin, and no-one in my family thought very much of it, so it gathered dust in a spare room. I saw it one day as a young kid and asked could i learn to play it, having heard lots of stories about this great bloke and his fascinating life.

Fast forward twelve years and i'm pretty good at it. More than that, i felt it brought me close to a member of my family who wasn't shit (i'm on t'internets on christmas day instead of with them, and glad for it).

If, at the time, i had answered the QOTW about stuff you'd rescue from fire, this violin would be it. I'd answer in a heartbeat. Playing this old fiddle was my one escape from a world where i was an unlikeable awkward cunt.

So when my brother stole it and sold it for ten or twenty quid so he could shoot up on smack, it was about the most heartbreaking thing that had ever happened to me. I'd imagine it was in the same category as a pet you've had for more than a decade, that was just how much it meant to me.

3 years ago i discovered just exactly how much it was worth, too. Not in the Stradivarius league, but still in the many tens of thousands, not that it mattered.

He took a friend from me, not only in the beautiful music we made together, but in the closeness to my granddad i never met, while i played away alone in that house. I've not played the violin since.

He also took my commodore 64, 2 mobile phones, countless clothes and money... Don't let a junkie elicit sympathy from you, they are ill people who will do and say anything for the next fix. To have that kind of addiction you have to be a clever muggins.

RIP Grandad
(RitalinFreak is dying in a clichéd manner, Fri 26 Dec 2008, 15:29, 1 reply)

This story makes me really sad.
I was really good friends with a guy who turned to smack and robbed me of loads of money. I didnt even realise for ages as he was taking it of out cash machines with my credit card. Nothing as bad as what happened to you though by a long shot.

I'm glad you aren't too bitter considering, and its good you can be so level-headed about something so horrible.
(Burt Burt, Tue 30 Dec 2008, 16:51, closed)