I sat in the waiting room chair for eight hours. Eight entire hours. Why? Because the doctors here can’t manage their time and spend twelve hours with one patient and one minute with the next even though the first one has a minor cut and the second is dying of terminal cancer.  I’m furious, not because I’ve been sitting in this crappy chair forever but because my brother is in one of those rooms and the last time I saw him, he had taken a handful of pills. No one has told me anything, or will tell me anything and the receptionist won’t let me in the back rooms to go see him.

Every single time a doctor comes out into the waiting room I get really nervous, but of course it’s not for me; he’s just calling more patients to be treated. Waiting is a pain and I have the uncontrollable need to pee, but all I can do right now is wait and worry.

***

I was sixteen when I found the small blue box in my brother’s room. He was gone for the night, I don’t know where he went, but I was so curious that I decided to go through his room. The blue box confused me, I had no idea what is was, let alone what was in it that was so important he felt the need to lock it up. I wasn’t surprised, just confused. Though Anthony was one to keep secrets I never thought that he’d lock them up in a box.

A small box equals a tiny lock so I went all the way into the garage to grab a hammer. I hit the lock hard, twice before the tiny thing popped off. I took the broken lock and the box into my bathroom and dumped whatever was inside onto my counter.

Pills spilled everywhere, some fell into the sink before I could grab them. There must have been about forty, and all of them were blue. The pills were small but long and I couldn’t help but wonder what my brother was using them for and why he had so many. I carefully put them back into the box and hid it in the sock drawer where I found it.

A couple days later when I was lying on my bed listening to music, Anthony walking into my room with the blue box with blue pills and I couldn’t help but thinking, “Oh well I’m screwed.”

“Ronnie, did you go through my stuff? Maybe last Friday when I wasn’t here?”

There was no point in lying. It was obvious that he already knew, so I just told him the truth.

“Yeah, I did go through your stuff. What even are those?” I blatantly stared at him.

“It’s nothing to worry about. They’re just sleeping pills.”

“Nothing to worry about? Really? You have so many I’m convinced that you’re a drug dealer. Are you?”
He laughed while I sat waiting for an answer.

“No Ronnie, I promise you I’m not a drug dealer. I use them sometimes when I can’t sleep and I need to get some sleep.”

He was lying. I knew he was lying. I had to ask one more question. “Well, where the hell did you get so many?”

Anthony turned and left my room without answering. I yelled and followed him. “Where did you get so many, Anthony?”

He turned towards me and his face was full of sadness and anger. I have never seen him look like that. It knocked the wind out of me and I stepped back. He pushed me into the doorframe and told me to leave him alone.

I kept thinking about the idea of my own brother being a drug dealer. It made sense, but I kept telling myself that it was something more.

I went back into his room after a couple of hard, sleepless nights had gone by. I was shaking, my anxiety taking over. He looked at me and told me to go away.

“No I need t-”

“Go away.” I was on the verge of tears.

“You’re my brother for god's sake!  You can’t hide things from me! Stop being like this.”

“Ronnie if you don’t leave my goddamn room right now I’m going to kick you out. Don’t doubt me.” He was pissed. He was so angry that he was yelling. His words cut. I started living alone with my brother when our parents died in a car accident three years ago. Everything inside me broke down when he said this. I punched the wall, hard and went outside.

As I was walking down the stairs outside I realized that my entire body was numb. I couldn’t feel anything.

I ran a few laps around our apartment complex to calm myself down. The numbness slowly went away. When I started feeling okay, I went back inside. Opening the front door, I noticed Anthony’s arm sticking outside his door and I ran over to him.

Anthony was lying on the ground with his eyes closed. The box was in his other hand, open, and about half the pills were missing.

I called 911.
***

A young doctor walks out into the waiting room. He looks at me and calls, “Mister Dean?”

I have no idea why he’s looking at me. My last name is Radke.

As he goes inside of the doors with an older couple, I realize that I really need to use the bathroom.

I walk over to the receptionist and ask her where the closest bathroom is. Her monotone voice makes me highly annoyed. “The bathroom is right down the hall.” I half run to it.

I’m in the middle of peeing I hear a woman say, “Mr. Radke? Is there a Ronnie Radke here?” My whole body trembles, which makes me accidently pee on the toilet seat. I run into the room and try to open the doors that lead to the rooms. The door is locked and the people that are sitting in the waiting room are staring.

I basically yell at the receptionist, “Let me in. Please. You have to let me in. I need to know how my brother is! You just called my name. Open the goddamn door!”

She looks freaked out and tries to tell me to calm down but she’s gotten on the last of my nerves. I pound on the door and stare at her.

A man sitting in the chair in the corner stands up and tells the receptionist to let me in. She listens to him, but not me. She tells me that Anthony is in room 112 and clicks a button. When the door opens down I decide to run down the hall. I’m yelling Anthony’s name when I see the small black numbers. The young doctor is standing over him, talking to the nurse.

My older brother is lying perfectly still, something that isn’t normal for him. He’s pale and it looks like he isn’t breathing.

I touch his cold hand and run my fingers over his arm. I touch his face and to my surprise it’s rock hard.

The doctor then says what I’m thinking.

“He’s dead.”

That’s when my whole world turns black.

***

I wake up in a hospital bed. The beeping increases as I try to sit up. I look over, expecting to see my brother in the chair next to me and when I don’t, the reality of my situation crushes me again. I try to pry the IV from my arm in an attempt to escape from this hell but my unsuccessful attempt leads me to think that I’ll never be able to get out of here.

The same doctor who I saw earlier comes into the room. He’s holding a tray. He sets it in front of me and tells me that I need to eat.

I shake my head and push the tray off of me. It falls to the ground, and the yogurt spills on the doctor’s shoes.

“I really am sorry about what happened to your brother but you need to eat. I’ll be right back with a new tray.” His voice is sincere, which makes me feel bad. The mention of Anthony makes me start crying.

The doctor, whose name is Dr. Greensburg, brings me a new tray and I eat for him. He tells me that I am allowed to go back home to pick out some of my things before I have to go live with my aunt. He takes his lunch break and drives me there.

Walking inside our apartment is the hardest thing I have ever done. This apartment is the place that I saw Anthony alive.

I walk into his room and trip on the blue box. It rattles as I’m walking into the kitchen. I grab a handful of pills and throw them at the wall, hard while shoving the rest down the drain. I let the water wreck the small killers.

My brother is dead. I can’t bring him back even if I wanted to. The only thing I can do now is live for him.

I plan to.