Oh, how years pass without you even realizing it. I'm now 16 years old. The heart on my flank represents my "talent" to love. Since the night I got it, I've tried to think of other always. In fact, I can't even think of a time where I was put first. Oh wait. That's right. When I tried to run away. It had been in the past. I never wrote down what I wanted to happen in life anymore. I didn't need to. My life was going in a positive direction. I still loved to write, even though it would never be anywhere near as good as my dad's.
I wasn't the only one who seemed to develop in our family. My brother, Treble, transformed himself after middle school. His cutie mark is, an electric guitar. He was so good at it. When he'd play by himself, I'd listen carefully. He liked to play loud. It was beautiful. His soloing, and song writing skills were outstanding. During any time He felt uneasy, or stressed, he played his heart out. I know mom was happy that we developed well. She never got over dad, but who could blame her?
..........
Treble was acting different lately. In the past week, he'd come home quiet, and just play his guitar. Sometimes not even eat. Day by day, he seemed to eat less, and lock himself in his room. My mom and I began to worry.
Today, he came home, and said nothing. He ran upstairs, and slammed his door. I could here his saddlebag being thrown at the wall. Mom wasn't home yet. I trotted up quickly, and tried to open the door. It was locked.
"Treble, are you okay?" I called through the closed door.
"Yeah, I'm fine." He said, with an irritated voice.
"Do you wanna talk about it? Something has to be troubling..." He cut me off
"Just go away!" He yelled.
I didn't say anything back. I went into my room, and just sat there. Waiting to hear him play something. All I heard was a few angry growls and things break. I know he didn't break his guitar, or amp. For a few minutes it stopped. I trotted back out.
"Treble! Please! Let me in!" No response. My heart pounded. I bucked the door open. He was opening a large bottle of pills he was about to take.
"TREBLE! NO!" I ran to him as fast as possible, and knocked the bottle out of his hand, gripping him in a tight hug, not daring to let go.
"Let go!" He commanded.
"Never!" I shouted back.
"Let me go! I can't do this anymore!" He kept struggling to get out of my grasp. I began to tear up while trying to hold on to him.
Mom came home. I heard her run up the stairs.
"What's going on!??" She saw the pills spilled all over his floor. She looked at us, me holding him down, and him, after he gave up trying to escape.
"I wanna die!" He said sobbing in my arms. Mom came over, and embraced him. All three of us, hugging each other, not daring to let go. Just like when dad passed. We just all felt the same pain. And mom and I wouldn't dare want to feel it again without Treble.
"There there...It's okay honey." Is all she could say. We don't really know if it will. But the fact that my mom says it, seems to calm him down.
Our family is crumbling, and I don't know if any of us can stop it...