My brother
My brother was born less than 13 months after me (with a sister five years older than me and a brother five years younger than him). Hence we were brought up very closely, with matching clothes and similar toys (the Star Wars Light Saber set springs to mind). We learned to play football together, got into music at the same time and bought our first album together, going halves on "Appetite For Destruction" (a good choice I think you'll agree).

But as adolescent hormones kicked in, we fought to find our own identities - I became all bookish and went to Scouts, he got into dance music (rave as it was at the time, this being abvout 1993) and went to army Cadets. We irritated the crap out of each other, because we were so similar and of course knew what the other was up to.

I did well at school and my brother preferred to show off and enjoy the shallow applause of the numpties and bampots. Whenever teachers got frustrated at his evident intelligence but lack of efforts and asked why he could do more like me, he responded that he wans't me and would do things his way.

He left school, joined the army but only lasted six months, always getting into fights and trouble. He went to college and got offshore on the stand-by boats - a decent job for a young man, reasonable money. But with one month offshore and one month on, at home with no work to do, he had little to do. He had continued to consort with the nuggets, muppets and bampots of his school days, preferring to be a big fish in a very small pond rather than try to expand his horizons. So inevitably he filled his time with drugs.

At first this was hash and the occasional go with ecstasy. Most young people have been there, I've been there, so I don't think there's any great trouble with that. But continued escalation with ecstasy, being a class A drug, does bring some unsavoury characters. And unsavoury characters seeking to come down off a ecstasy high use heroin.

After a time my brother said he was suffering from insomnia and couldn't work, and was signed off. He called me up desperately one day and begged me to cover for him at his medical the next day, saying he had been out the night previous and "accidently" taken a line of coke, having forgotten about his medical. Big alarm bells started ringing, I snarled at him for his stupidity, told him to stop doing all the shite - but I did it for him all the same. I believed his line because he'd never lied to me before and we'd always been frank about our respective drugtaking. Or so I'd thought; the idea that he'd be taking smack crossed my mind but I dismissed it, thinking he couldn't be so stupid.

Later on I phoned home and was told that he had been cornered and confessed he was addicted to heroin. He moved back into my mother's house and tried to get off it. I went back to visit him, hoping to talk with him about it. But instead when we went to a bar for a few pints he disappeared into the toilets and came back, visibly drooping, eyes shuttering. I was torn apart by this, but even worse was him lying to my face and said, I haven't taken anything.

I went back to my place, life carried on. When I called home to find what was happening I was told that "he has good days and bad days". Every bad day put him straight back to square one of course.

Then, after staying off the shite for a few weeks, he overdosed in his own house, apparently after injecting for the first time (he'd been smoking until then). Thankfully there were people around and an ambulance was called. He was fine. He went back to work, was doing well, saying that the OD situation has scared him, made him realise that he could die from it.

Finally! A new light had shone. He'd gotten the fucking message. So what did he do when he came back onshore? He called up his dealer, bought some heroin, injected it and died.

I still can't believe it.

I love you Baba.
(McChinaman banned, Mon 5 Jan 2009, 8:02, 3 replies)

Interesting
Sorry to hear about your brother. Reminds me of one of my best friends; I went one way (ie out of town & uni), he's stayed put (ie in the pub & trouble).
( elgordo, Mon 5 Jan 2009, 8:23, closed)

So sorry
he can't have been very old.
(Juan Quar is clinging to her front teeth on, Mon 5 Jan 2009, 15:08, closed)

Age
27. Same age as Kurt Cobain, Jimi Hendrix and all those other bastards. Which is a bitter irony.
(McChinaman banned, Mon 5 Jan 2009, 16:55, closed)