My brother and I don't talk anymore. Not even if we run into each other at a party. With him ****** and me very drunk. A hello is as far as it goes. We pass each other silently in the corridors of my home. Things are different slowly but suddenly. We used to walk the halls of the school holding hands, even up until seventh grade. Well he was in sixth. Everyone told us they were so jealous, best friends and family. We planned to grow up and have houses with adjoining yards. We would share a pool. But my brother died two years ago. Now even if I try I am disappointed. Want to go on a walk? His eyes stare blankly ahead at the computer. When sharing the kitchen space, Do you remember that time we broke the tire swing? Not really he mumbles with the slam of the fridge door as he slips out of the room. He'll come out of this. People tell me all the time. I don't really think people come back from the dead. Yet, every day I find myself checking his features for signs of life.