WHERE WERE YOU LAST NIGHT? I read the scribbled words off a pad of paper in my brother�s lap. The random beeping from all over the emergency room filled my ears and made my thoughts fuzzy. I felt distant, hurt, but mostly; guilty. I didn't know how to answer his question. He had called my phone several times, but I, not wanting to put up with his 'suicidal bullshit' as I so fondly referred to it, had quickly ignored the call and shut off my phone so as not to have any disruptions. I had been busy, too busy for my brother. Now, he was here with a tube down his throat, his heart racing at speeds so high that he was on constant watch by the doctors and another watch on top of that - suicide watch. He had swallowed twenty-seven. Exactly twenty-seven Sleep-Eeze tablets from Walgreen were to be the death of him. Generic brand. I suppose it doesn't matter which kind you buy when you are planning on dying. I don't know man.. I glanced up at the clock to avoid his eyes. I was never good at lying to my brother. I felt horrible, especially being the older one by five years. He was only sixteen. I was his superior, he looked up to me, and I had let him down. Jackie had this emergency.. She, her dad.. Well man I'm just sorry I wasn't there for you last night.. and that I didn't make it here sooner. I had gotten to the hospital eight hours late. At ten o�clock the previous night, David was hyperventilating, so close to dying, and my phone was off. He was only alive because his only friend just happened to knock on the door and eventually came in uninvited when nobody answered. The doctors couldn�t even reach me. All of this happening and where was I? The truth was that I had been spending some time with my girlfriend, Jackie. I was in love and went to great lengths to impress her (even if this included canceling plans with my brother). I had cooked a full course meal, lit some candles and bought a bottle of wine for the occasion. It didn�t even matter that this took place in my dingy one-bedroom apartment. It was new love and I was taking it all in - at my brother's expense. SHOULD HAVE DIED, the paper now read. David was spacing out at the baseball game on the tiny television attached to the ceiling. I sighed. He hadn�t had a good life. Our mother had died as a result of him being born and he could feel that guilt, taking it on though it wasn�t his fault. Our father was a drunk who spent most of his time at the bar, where he was while David was trying to die. He was often angry at the loss of our mother and inflicted it on David. Since I was spending so much time with Jackie, I hadn't been around to make sure he was alright and I felt partially at fault. I heard a scream from down the hallway that shook my thoughts. It was a man�s voice and I recognized it instantly as our father's. He was angry and obviously drunk. I knew this without even seeing him. HE DID WHAT?!� he yelled. David looked at me with terrified eyes and motioned to the pad of paper. It still read, �SHOULD HAVE DIED.