I want my brother
In March of 1989, 11 years before I was born, my mom and dad had a baby named Kurt. He died a little after he was born. After that, in 1990, they had my oldest sister Janelle (who is now married and has the cutest baby on the planet, I'm so proud of her) and in 1995 they had my sister Dana, who has been accepted at 2 art schools already and has a 3.85 GPA. I'm so proud of her too. And then in 1999, they had me. I'm 13 years old now.
I think about him a lot now. A few months ago, we took a family trip to Utah to visit my sister and her baby and husband. They live in the same city as my grandparents, who live right next to Kurt's grave. We took a trip to his grave, it was my first time seeing it since I was around 4 years old. I know my parents seemed sort of sad about it, and Dana was too, but I couldn't stop crying.
After that visit, I occasionally would start crying right before I fell asleep because I was thinking about how long it will be until I get to see him in heaven.
When I was around 11 years old, I would sometimes have dreams about talking to Kurt or going to his funeral. I would wake up screaming and crying.