8:43 a.m.

My brother is dead…

“He was walking in the woods when he fell into a pre dug grave with nothing in it and hit his head on the side, fell into a deep sleep. In other words he died.” Is all the information the officer gave me. 

Then he looked at his watch and stated, “That was 13 hours 26 minutes ago. We have identified the male as part of your family, we are hesitant to take fingerprints for we do not know for certain what caused his death and it could be strychnine but because that is deadly to breathe in even. We do not want to get closer until we have the right equipment to safely evaluate the body.” 

“Oh” I said under my breath. That was not the news I expected to hear when I quickly pulled on my bathrobe to answer the door that morning. I had barely slept cuz I had had a heated argument with my father the previous night. Things were said and we both got angry then all of a sudden he hung up on me, I guess he got really really upset and couldn’t even deal with me after that. Can you imagine, my own father not wanting to talk to me, getting annoyed at me, wanting me out of his life, hanging up on me when we were just talking and catching up.

I just couldn’t believe that my brother was dead. It wasn’t right! We had so many memories together. We had grown up together, gone through things together. Actually we had gone through everything together. We told each other everything, us being twins and all. There were only nine minutes and three seconds that we were not side by side. And now he’s gone, dead, and I never got to say goodbye. I just thought he was leaving for his night shift and an air traffic controller. But now he's gone and I never got to say a final parting. I mean I'll have the funeral to go to but that's not the same thing. I just want to hug my brother one last time. But I can't, not even the officers can, not until they find out what his cause of death was. It could be whatever poison that officier was talking about but it could also be Congenital heart disease, thyroid issues, high blood pressure from undiagnosed diabetes, unsubscribed medications or even caffeine, nicotine or alcohol, addictions. So many things that could have caused my brother's death and none of them are inadequate. 

“Ma’am”, the officer addressed me.

“Yes?” I started with a wondering tone.

“Ma’am, we got the supplies needed to examine the body and it turns out that he was incredibly drunk. We assume fell into the pit, because there is no evidence that someone pushed him, hit his head, fell unconscious and then proceeded to die from alcohol poisoning.” The officer who told me this was not the officer that originally told me about my brother. However he did not look very mournful as he told me this, making me think that he might have some better news to share; like that it was not my brother that was in fact dead, it was some other distant relative that i did not know that well and had met at some family reunion once many years ago and could still mourn. Because getting over the death of great uncle Henry is a lot easier than getting over the death of my own twin, the one who had looked after me all my life and I had looked after all of my life and every part of his life but for nine minutes and three seconds.

This was not so. “The person who has died is not your own brother, but your father.” The officer said it so casually I almost did not comprehend that it was a bad thing, almost being key. I started to cry. This is worse than my brother.

“But it can’t be him! It just can’t be, I was on the phone with him just the other night. Why him? Oh why him.”

“Yes that's the thing ma’am. You were on the phone with him. He was drunk which is why he got really upset and ‘hung up on you’. News flash, he didn't hang up on you he lost signal when he tripped and fell into the grave dugout.” The way the officer stated all these facts was just so Arrrg, it was frustrating, he seemed to have no sympathy, no heart.

“My father?” I stated questionably, but expecting no reply. “This is unreal, it sounds like something from a horror story. "Mother dead, father dead, all the girl had left was her twin brother who hadn't shown up.””

It couldn't be! It just couldn’t. My father had looked after me and my brother ever since our mom died. He had dropped everything, like a social life, friends, and even sleep to provide for us. Working night shifts at the pharmacies and day shifts at clothing stores whilst we were at school. He had been there for me and my brother when our mother died. When it must have been really hard for him because he had known her way way way longer then we had. He must have been so sad but had to get over it or compress it until later so he could act happy for us and give us a good childhood. 

“Well, thank you, officer, for telling me this heartbreaking news so calmly, so I do not get upset.” It was upsetting. I did not get how someone could relay this news to someone who was their only guardian, their only parent, the person who was there for me in my deepest moments.  I want more time with him — more joy, more laughter, more healing — and death makes all those hopes impossible to fulfill. I remember all the good times I had with him, learning to ride a bike, my birthdays, which were reluctantly shared at the time with my brother, all sorts of things, and now they are all over, there is no way I can make new memories with him. He is gone.