AN:/ This has a wierd story line; abosrb details.

Even from close speculation I could not describe their relationship. Even if I had been one of them, I doubted I could understand fully what drove my brother into a madness like this, what he found in her.I thought he was always crazy, form birth, a muddied reflection of Father and had such strange ideals. The girl was merely a distraction to him, a way for him to explain why he was the way he was. But soon….she became an obsession.

It was during the fall months that my brother's leaves drastically changed colors. Possibly the worst father could have done was give him a car. He totaled it a total of eighteen times and got off on all of them. His yearly insurance must cost a fortune, father would never tell me, he wanted me to respect him, but with his track record…he was more an embarrassment to society.

He and I both had very secluded extensions of the house in order have some privacy but still stay close to home. Mother and Father had very choice reasons for keeping us at bay. But however secluded it might have been from them and the world, he and I always had each other.

When we moved into the pool house, it seemed as if he had an unethical stroke of creativity; near turned his room into a horrible amalgam he called 'art'. His only explanation was the fact that he wanted people to recognize a clear differentiation from me and him. What a prick.

I could never understand his standards, why he would he don a jacket in the summer and a wife beater in middle of winter, why he would rather major in philosophy and interpretive art than to become successful in law like me and the rest of our male lineage before him had done…why he puts spiced chai in his coffee….

He didn't carry in self in the natural way, but he went out just as much as I did, we were home probably ten percent of the time, and when we were home we were completely in ourselves. And when I would usually get a hangover, that shows exactly what I'd been doing the night before, my brother was always up the same time every morning and in optimal physical condition. I wonder if he drinks at all. I was convinced he was on something anyway; a stimulant or narcotic maybe…anything to somehow explain why he's different. He was a psychopath by blunt definition. I brought a girlfriend over once, and left her alone with him for maybe ten minutes. After that she declared 'things might not work out'. As if I was looking for relationship. He never did tell me what went on. It angers me still, I'd worked really hard to get Sara to come home with me, and mom dad loved her. What a waste.

He, on the other hand, never brought anyone home…well, not before her. I was merely on the outside looking in, but my perspective changed when they met each other. I never believed two people could be so destined for each other. Life for him then seemed to circulate around her very existence. It was a shame to see it end. All disconsolate was how she left him, and then life had no meaning...or so he said. They say you never miss the water until the well runs dry. And it's true; back then I would have disowned him...but I wish he was here now.