He was screaming again. It's all he ever did, scream and shit himself. Mum says that's just what babies do. I doubt it. If all babies were like him no one would have them. I just want him to shut up. My ears are ringing and I'm exhausted. He started crying in the middle of the night and he hasn't stopped. Dad stopped coming home from work. He can't concentrate. They yell at and slam doors, then he wakes up and starts screaming again.

Mum is feeding him now. He's finally quiet. I ask for breakfast, but she just tells me to be quiet. He's falling asleep and so is she. She tells me to go outside and play. I look down at my pyjamas. I listen to my growling stomach. I look up at her closed eyes as she falls asleep, my little brother cradled in her arms. It's been this way since he was born. As I spread jam on a piece of bread I can't stop the thoughts that scream in my head. Thoughts that resound louder than his cries that still sound in the ringing of my ears.

'Why did he have to be born. Things were so much better without him.'

I pull the door closed behind me as I make my way next door, to my best bud Geoff. Jam drips from the bread that I hold in my mouth as I put a jacket over my pyjama top. The jacket covers the dark stain smeared across my front. It's not like it'll make any difference. She won't notice anyway.

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Jessica held my hand. It was kind of nice. I wanted to tell my Dad about it but he brought work home again. I don't know why he bothered getting weekend visitations. It's not like he spends any of it with me anyway. At least it's time away from 'Him'. At 4 years old, he's still too little to stay an entire weekend so Dad takes him for a while on Friday afternoon while I'm still at school. Last week they went to the aquarium. I'm sure I'm not really missing much. Geoff says it's just a bunch of dumb fish swimming around. I don't get the attraction. Why not just go to the pet store?

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I can't believe it. This is it. We did it. I leave the stage with my guitar, my pride and joy, clasped tightly as the applause still booms behind me. My heart is racing as sweat runs down my face. Geoff is right behind me. He laughs, giddy with the thrill of our first stadium performance. The guitar he holds is almost identical to mine. We're down to party. Spread our name, spread our fame. But first we have to put our babies somewhere safe. After all our hard work we can afford new ones but these ones are priceless.

I carefully put my guitar in her case in our dressing room. As I close the case, I look at the inscription on the lid. A gift for my 13th birthday from Geoff and his parents, this was key to my freedom. Learning to play, reciting my feelings in song, this was the reason I exist. This is the meaning of life. If I didn't have this release I would have lost it years ago. I go to join the guys as we head out to party. My bros. My family.

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We rode our success for as long as we could, but things change. One by one the guys left, heading for greener pastures or settling down. Geoff was the last to leave, but with him gone it was time to go solo. My career really took off then. An award winning song writer. Geoff never truly left my side though. Through thick and thin he was there for me. Best man at my wedding, godfather to my children, my bro in every way but blood. Now he stands here again. He stands at the grave side supporting my mother.

As the bagpipes start to drone, my life plays out before my eyes. I see everything. All my faults. All my failures. All the big moments that marked out who I had become. I remember my father's funeral. I can't help but wonder how things might have played out, what would have been different, if I hadn't...

I walk over to my mother, but through her tears she doesn't see me. Then again, when did she ever. Geoff's eyes are glued to the casket as it's lowered into the ground. He'd tried to tell me but I wouldn't listen. Now it was to late. No second chances. He'd seen the way I'd lived and the way it affected those around me. I was blinded by jealousy and didn't see it when it was reflected back at me in the eyes of others.

I wish I'd listened. I wish I'd known then what I now know. Maybe things would have been different. Maybe if I'd paid attention I would have seen what was happening right in front of me.

*I drop my favourite pick into the grave. It lays nestled in the wreath that still lays atop his coffin.*

Yeah. Maybe then I would still have a little brother.