I had never felt a cold like this before, It’s like a shiver that runs down my spine right to my core. I never wanted this, but he did. He begged me, even when tears were streaming down my face he still begged. I could feel his emptiness next to me, like a hollow shell of a person who was never really there. But he was there, he was real. My scar proves it. It’s a jagged line that runs down the center of my arm, torn flesh healed over, leaving the white lines that are proof of his existence. My parents used to pretend we were one, I guess we were in a sense. But how could they not mourn the loss of their son, even if I was still here, a half of me wasn’t. But they refused to blink an eye. Even as the nurses dragged me into surgery with my legs thrashing and my mouth yelling words I don’t remember.  I do remember the stale smell that wafted through those halls, like death. That place was meant for death. They ripped my brother from me, they took him from me. And my parents didn’t care. They didn’t give a shit.