I remember the one person that has had the greatest influence on my life. His time here was not long, but the memories will last forever. Though I may not have known how important he was to me during his time on earth or shortly after, I came to realize how vital he was in my life. I’ve had many regrets, nightmares, fears, and experiences since his death, most due to my feelings about him. He will forever have a place in my heart, and I will not let his life not have influence.

          It started when I was at the age of six. Those curious years prior seemed to be the best years, and time did not phase me. I was a boy full of energy with little consideration for others cause face it. When we’re little, we don’t understand the world around us and the people in it. All I knew were my parents and how to get on their nerves. No matter how much I annoyed them, though, they would always take me in their arms, fling me around, and say how much they loved me. I guess getting attention seemed to be a necessary part to living, the most important part at the time.
          Life was continuing its usually course until something happened. My mom started throwing up in the mornings. I would bring her juice, thinking she was sick. It wasn’t until I went to the doctor’s with her did we both find out that it was something much bigger. She was pregnant. Being six years old and never hearing that word before, I had no idea what was going on. At first I thought it was a type of cold or flu, but Mommy fixed the misunderstanding.
          “It means I’m going to have a baby,” she said with a smile.
          “A baby?” I thought to myself.
          “You’re going to have a baby brother or sister soon!”
          Her being so happy even made me smile. I wasn’t thinking about it as, I’m going to have new responsibilities. I thought of it as another toy. Someone to play with, to boss around, and to adore me. I wanted to make sure that I was the only one to get the attention, even with a competitor.
          Yes, I thought of the baby as a competitor. Though it’s a silly thought now, it made sense back then. Mom told me that babies require a lot of love and attention, and that I was going to have to be patient. I hated that idea. Even though I would have someone to play with all the time, I wanted attention more than anything else. I needed love.

          About eight or nine months later, my mom started screaming in the middle of the night. I woke up thinking there was a fire or someone breaking into the house. A minute later my father ran in my room and told me to get dressed. We had to go to the hospital.
          “The baby’s coming.”
          Those words excited me. Even though I hated the idea of a baby in the house, I was excited. I didn’t question it, and just did as I was told.
          The car ride of the hospital was the scariest thing that I’ve ever had to go through. Not only was my mom screaming, but Dad was speeding. I looked to see that we were going 60 mph in a 35 mph area. He was swerving around other cars and passing red lights. I thought we were going to either get stopped by the police or die. Thankfully, neither of those happened.
          I waited with another kid around my age that was also having a mom give birth. She talked to be in a very excited manner about her mom’s baby.
          “It’s going to be a girl,” she said while swinging her feet. “I get to be big sis and teach her everything. We’re going to be best friends and my mom and I are going to dress her in cute stuff. It’s going to be great!”
          I was looking down, wondering how she could be so excited. “It must be a girl thing,” I thought.
          “So, are you getting a baby brother or sister?”
          “A baby brother,” I mumbled.
          “That’s great! You can play with him and teach him sports with your daddy!”
          I never really thought about it like that. Maybe I could become a role model for him. Maybe there’s more to this than getting attention from Mom and Dad. Maybe it’s about making a sort of bond, like I do with Mom and Dad. I actually felt myself get excited with the idea of having a baby brother all because of that girl.
          “Vincent?”
          I looked up towards the direction of the door. It was Dad calling to me.
          “Mom’s resting because she’s very tired, but the baby is all ready to see you. Want to go see him?”
          I nodded my head and jumped out of my seat. I waved good bye to the girl and she smiled as she wished me luck. I had a smile on as well. I wanted to meet my baby brother.
          When we reached the room with all the babies, my dad pointed him out to me. He even lifted me to get a better look at him.
          “That’s Alexander, your new baby brother,” he said in a soft voice.
          My eyes were wide, trying to take in the whole image. He was rolled up in blankets with a blue cap on his head. He was really small. A nurse in there saw us and lifted him up to be closer to the window. He hardly opened his eyes, but he did manage to reach his hand out as he yawned. It was so small and his fingers looked smaller than the pieces you get with toys that parents tell you not to eat. The one thing that stuck out to me was his flat nose.
          “What’s with his nose?” I asked.
          My dad sighed. “He’s a bit different than you or me. You’re too young to understand, but I’ll explain more to you when the family gets back home. Okay?”
          I nodded. I felt a bit worried. Why would I be too young to understand? He’s my baby brother. What else is there to understand?

          Down Syndrome.
          Those are the words that my parents told me. That was brother’s problem. I didn’t quite understand. They told me it was something that you’re born with, so I couldn’t catch it. They told me that he’s going to need a lot of attention and will be slower than me. They said that he probably will not learn to speak for a long time and that he will need special care.
          I had no idea what they meant by it, but something inside me was saying that I will not be getting as much attention anymore. This made me mad at him. Yes, a six year old mad at a new born baby. It’s silly now, but it was everything back then.

          “Mom! I’m hungry!”
          My mother was in my brother’s room. It’s been three years since his birth, and I still refuse to see him.
          “I’m busy. Alex isn’t eating his own food. Why don’t you go make some soup?”
          I stomped down the stairs. Ever since Alex moved in, he has gotten all the attention. Even though I should act older as a nine year old, I can’t help but to act like a six year old at home. My parents are so busy with making sure Alex has everything he needs and gets to his appointments on time. It’s like he’s the only kid that matters now. I mean, I know that he’s sick, but I don’t see the big deal with it.
          Mom came down the stairs and sighed. “You really should at least visit your brother. Haven’t you grown up enough?”
          I knew that it was about time to see the kid, and Mom has been bothering me about it for a while now.
          “Fine,” I mumbled as I took another spoonful of soup.
          “Really?” She had a pleasant smile on her face. “I’ll go tell him that you’ll be seeing him soon.”
          I really didn’t want to, but I knew that I would be forced to now even if I were to change my mind. I decided to eat my soup very slowly that day. I pained me swallowing that last bit. After rinsing off the bowl and putting it in the dishwasher, I dragged my feet up the stairs. I was really hesitating with taking my last step up those stairs. I don’t believe I ever moved slower than when I was walking towards Alex’s room.
          “Oh, look Alex,” Mom happily pointed out. “It’s your brother, Vince.”
          The last time I saw Alex was in that hospital. He was much smaller back then, and I couldn’t believe it was the same kid. He still had that flat nose that I asked Dad about. His face seemed very round and his eyes were slanted. I never really saw anyone like that before, so I was caught by surprise.
          “Why is he sticking his tongue out?”
          “Oh, that’s because his tongue is too large for his mouth,” Mom explained. “It’s hard for him to keep it in his mouth.”
          I was a little scared now, but Mom’s motion to come closer assured me. Alex was now staring at me with a smile. My attention was drawn to his eyes. They were blue, but there was also white parts in it. I never saw eyes like that in my entire nine years. I thought they looked amazing, and the coolest thing ever. I couldn’t help but to stare.
          “Now, Vincent,” she strictly spoke, which is why she used my actual first name, “Alex is slower than you, so be nice. He’s very sensitive, but he’s also very friendly. Just call me if anything is wrong, okay?”
          I nodded. I then realized that I would have to treat this three year old as a new born baby. I knew that he couldn’t talk or even walk yet from overhearing my parents talking. I never played with a baby before, but I was ready to try, whether I wanted to or not.
          Mom left and Alex just continued to stare at me with a smile. I felt awkward. I moved over to sit down next to him and his toy fire truck. I wondered if he could understand me if I talked.
          “So, you like playing with fire trucks?” I asked, pointing at the toy to make sure he knew what I meant. He nodded very excitedly, so I guess he understood. “I like playing with them, too.” I didn’t know if making a connection between us was going to be hard or easy.
          He started rolling it around, silently. I was confused as to why he was so quiet. I mean, even if you can’t talk, you can make sounds, right?
          “Can I try?”
          He looked confused, but pushed the toy towards me. I started rolling it around making car sounds, thinking that he would be amused. This is why I nearly jumped out of my socks when he started to scream. I let go of the truck and crawled away, afraid to get up and having him scream some more. Mom was in the other room, so she was in there quickly.
          “What did you do to him?” she scolded as she picked him up to comfort him.
          “Nothing,” I defended myself. “I was just showing him how I play with trucks.”
          Mom sighed and continued to cradle Alex. He was calmer now, and started smiling at me like nothing ever happened.
          “How weird,” I thought to myself. “This can’t be my brother. He’s way to messed up.”
          “Vince, it would be best if you just go play in your room right now. Alex is probably just tired, so I’ll put him down for a nap. Just, please be quiet.”
          I got up and left without replying. I never should have gone in there. I never should have tried being nice to him. I should have just continued to ignore and hate him as I have been for three years. I should just go back to hating him and never see him again.
          But still… those eyes.

          It was six years after Alex’s birth that he was finally able to walk, though he would fall a lot. He also was limited to the words he was able to speak. He could say “Mom” and “Dad”. Mom even taught him how to say my name, even though I would never respond to it when he called it out. I admit, I did feel bad at times for ignoring him like that, but being the jealous twelve year old that I was, those moments passed by quickly.
          One incident though, I did feel bad for a long time after.

          It was my thirteenth birthday, and my parents decided that I could have a few friend over. Charley and Steve came over that day. We were suppose to either stay in the backyard, stay downstairs, or be in my room. Mostly, the main idea was to have them not see Alex because of how he looks and acts. I thought it was a load of crap, something I just recently learned to say.
          “Want to go see my weird brother?” I innocently asked. A part of me wanted someone else to think the same as me, but the other part just wanted to see if his eyes were the same.
          They decided that it would be fun, so we went upstairs. My parents were in the living room downstairs, so we wouldn’t have to worry much.
          “Try not to make him too upset, okay?” I don’t know what I requested this. Usually I wouldn’t have cared.
          They nodded and I opened the door. Alex was on the floor, like the one time I was in here, playing with that same fire truck. He looked up at us with that same smile, the only difference was that he was twice the age since the last time I saw him in his room. Those eyes grabbed a hold on me just like the time before. They didn’t change a bit, and I was glad inside. I almost forgot that I was with other people until Charley spoke.
          “He does look weird.”
          I was silent.
          “Did you say that he still can’t really talk?” Steve asked.
          I shook my head.
          “What a retard,” Charley mumbled. I felt a stab inside. I mean, I knew now what that meant and that my younger brother was one. It’s just that the word carried with it hate. It wasn’t a good thing to be called, but Alex sat there smiling like he knew not what it meant.
          Steve kicked Alex’s fire truck away from him. Alex didn’t scream, but his eyes looked like he was very distressed. Charley joined Steve with the act of bullying by pushing Alex down. The two laughed when Alex started to cry. I felt like punching the two, but I didn’t know why.
          “We should probably go to Vince’s room,” Charley stated.
          Steve agreed, so we left the room. I was the last one out. I looked to make sure Steve and Charley were out and in my room before I helped Alex back up and gave him a hug.
          “I’m sorry,” I whispered in his ear. Before I walked out, I looked back to see Alex waving goodbye to me with a smile and happy eyes.
          I felt like crying.

          I guess the whole thing would have been better if I had enough time to fix all of my mistakes. I mean, no one knows what the future has in store for them until it becomes the present. No matter how much we wish we knew that the horrible things in the future would happen, we will never truly know until they finally happen.

          That night I went to Alex’s room after Mom and Dad went to sleep. I made sure to be quiet and to not wake him up. He was laying in his bed, which had a few bars so he wouldn’t fall off the bed in his sleep. He looked really peaceful in his sleep, and I no longer saw what I used to see. I didn’t see a “retard”. I saw my brother, my little brother, sleeping in bed. I was hoping that he was having a nice dream. I kissed his forehead and left the room. I closed the door with all intentions of spending time with him the next day.

          My heart was racing.
          “What time is it?” I thought to myself as I rolled over to see the clock. It was two in the morning. All I knew was that I felt a sense of panic, but nothing else. It’s not like I had a bad dream or have unfinished homework. I laid back down and tried to collect myself. For some reason, I felt the urge to go check on Alex. “Is it because I’m feeling guilty?”
          I tried to fall back to sleep and ignore that feeling. It was probably just guilt getting the best of me.
          “It’s okay,” I thought. “I’ll see him in the morning.”

          The first thing I remembered when I woke up was my mother, screaming. I never heard her scream like that before. It was nothing like the screaming she did when she was in labor. Something was wrong.
          I got up out of bed and ran into Alex’s bedroom based on my gut feeling.
          That’s when I saw what happened. That’s when I knew why I woke up in the middle of the night like I did.
          Alex’s bed hatch failed or something. Mother especially looked shocked. He was faced down into his carpet. The was a puddle of blood where his head lied. He must have gotten a bloody nose at impact. He also couldn’t move very well, or maybe he was too confused to know what was going on. His eyes were opened, but they looked empty. They were in the state of fear, and a state of death.
          My mother fell to her knees and started crying. My father was the last to get into the room. He acted the quickest though. He ran over and picked up Alex. I think he was on the brink of tears. He seemed to have closed Alex’s eyes. I then knew why they close the eyes of a dead person. Seeing they empty eyes caused the pain to be that much worst.
          It was the four of us in one room. Alex lifeless, my mother and father crying, and myself? I felt as empty as Alex. I didn’t feel anything.
          I didn’t want to feel anything.

          The rest of the day was a complete blur to me. I know that we went to many places, but I can’t say that I knew where. Everywhere we went, I was in a daze. I couldn’t, no, I didn’t want to think. I forced my mind to be empty as much as I could. I was able to make my mind completely empty except for one thing. That was Alex’s smiling face, and his beautiful eyes.

          Years passed with me just remember that image. At one point, I completely forgot who it was that I imagined, all I knew was that face. I didn’t remember until my thirties when I was going through old family pictures. It was at the age of thirty two that I was finally able to grieve. My wife was confused about my sudden depression, and it took me months until I was able to open up to her. I thought that she would look down at me, for what my younger self did to such an innocent person.
          It is now that I wish that I spent more time with him. I asked my mother about him, and she told me stories with a sad smile. She told me that she would often hear him say my name during naps near the end of his life. It was then that I turned into a twelve year old and cried on my mother’s shoulder. We cried together. We both knew that we couldn’t change the past, but that didn’t stop us from wishing we could.

          I ended up hating myself for a short while for not seeing Alex when I woke up in the middle of the night. It took me time to realize that Alex wouldn’t have hated me for it. He would probably do what he always did, look up and smile at me when I said sorry.
          When I was a child, I didn’t understand my parents, why they were so protective over Alex. I didn’t understand why they even kept him around if he was so much work. Now, I completely understand them. Alex was their child, and parents have special connections with their children. No matter what happens, they always love their kid.
          I know I love my Alex, and I will always love him.