My Brother and I Are Best Friends

We got along so well growing up.

One night when I was twelve I was in our bedroom trying to go to sleep on our bunk beds. I was sad, my cat had just died. My brother was trying to sleep in the bunk above me.

I started crying.

"Shut up," my brother said. "Shut up."

I cried more.

"Shut. Up. Your cat was stupid, you know that, right? He was stupid."

I sniffed, wiping away the tears. "No, he wasn't," I said.

I quieted down.

Then I became angry.

When I heard him snoring, I got out of bed and went to his favorite camera. He was going to be a photographer. I took the camera in the hallway, into the bathroom. The bathroom was being renovated and there was a toolbox. I got out a hammer and smashed the lense.

I put the camera back in the case and got back into bed.

No one calls my cat stupid. No one.