I didn't know that I was talking to his ghost when it started. No idea. I thought I was dreaming, the way people dream of their lost loved ones all the time. He's been dead for eight years, why bother showing up now?
Better late than never, I guess.
I remember the day I found out my older brother was dead. My only brother, if you were wondering. I read it on Facebook. Fucking Facebook, can you believe it? Then, I had to stand in the small kitchen of the apartment my mother and I lived in and tell her that her only son was dead.
"I don't know how yet, but Cory's dead."
I broke her that day, and she never fully recovered. She's dead too, now, but her ghost doesn't yell at me. He, on the other hand...
To get the fun shit out of the way, he died of a heroin overdose. He wasn't a junkie, I know that's what you're thinking. Who does heroin except for junkies, right? Sad kids without a real sense of self or self-worth, for starters. Kids who have like, one friend, and then it tu