He just came back from hell on earth. He had been at war for three long brutal years. Constantly on his toes waiting for someone to try and steel his life. I saw my Tall, thin,buff, brother standing in formation until everyone got off the plane. I whispered to my mom " Are you sure thats Danny?" My mom did't answere because she was to busy crying. Her only son was standing ten feet in front of her. Why was she crying? She missed him. I have watched her pase back and fort in the livingroom for three years. There is even a line in the carpet that she had worn out from walking back and forth. Danny was now headed toward us. What was i going to do? He stops and strares into my mother's eyes. "Mom." he said. My mom reahed up and wrapped her arms around my buff brother. After they are done he reached down and messes up my blonde, shaggy hair. Who is this man and what did he do with my big brother? He wasn't the same skinny,tall, and nerdy kid that he was before he went to war. I had lots of questions to ask him, but i was afraid to know the answers. I didn't even dare to ask him if he shot anyone. Later that night he slept in my room with me in my king size bed. I'm not sure why my mom got me that bed because i'm only seven years old. My brother fell asleep and i soon began to close my eyes and was startled by something. My brother jumped up and screamed stop shooting at me. He didn't go back to sleep because he was too scared. My mom says he suffers from Post Tramatic Stress Disored. Its a disorder you get after a tramatic even in life, like war. Every night my brother would scream the same thing over and over again. Mom finally convinced him to go to the doctor to see what was wrong. The doc said it was just his nerves because he wasn't used to living in US anymore. He sent him home and told him to get to rest. Now two years later my brother's disorder got even worse. He took the matter in his own hands and ended it with one bullet when my and dad were at work. The shot was so loud that i believe the people in China could hear it. I went to his room to find a note that said " Dear family i can't take it anymore. i'm going crazy. I feel like a burden to everyone. i love you all Danny." By that note there was a big pool of blood and by the pool of blood was the body of my dead brother. Today i am sitting here at his funeral writing this story to tell people that they have the power to write their own story. Just like my brother did. Little by little everyone kept loosing faith in him and look where he is now. In a casket with crying women around him. Why did you do it Danny? Why? Then they closed the casket.
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