Creativemindtriplett

When I was little, my family thought my brother was crazy. I thought so too. He seemed distant, out of it, speaking about strange things. He had what we thought were imaginary friends, the most prominent of which was a rat terrier named January. At age 10, he was finally diagnosed with schizophrenia. I didn’t know what they were talking about then, because I was only six at the time. I only knew they were wrong. I remember one night, when I was still small. My room was beneath my brothers, and late at night I could hear things. Things like dog claws, even though we didn’t have a dog then, thumps, and once even a growl and heavy b