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Bedtime came early, and I wasn't sleepy. Now that I'd recovered from jetlag, I realized that I would get to experience the same delight in about three or four days. I stayed on the roof, and practiced a bit. I didn't want anyone to notice a phasing accident, and I had been working on control. I even jumped off the roof to fly, and enjoyed the stars. I had to make myself return, even though I kept reminding myself I had no right to enjoy the stars, not with how I'd murdered Danny.

Chapter 21: Jazz POV

My brother and I were close when we were younger, from about the time I was a little over three and he was five. Okay, we actually didn't get close for a while. I just took care of him as well as I could because I figured out that it was the best way to keep him from crying. From there, our relationship grew until I became a mother figure. He doesn't hide things from me. At least, he used to not hide things.

Three weeks ago, he lied to me. I don't mean the kind of lie he offered me sometimes, the kind that, if I questioned, he would tell the truth about. He lied, and he kept lying. His birthday wasn't the same. He acted nice, he played brother, but he wasn't the same. The smile he gave me, and the reply he gave me, that he was fine, when I asked him how he felt, was a signal that he wasn't fine. I went into his room when he stole my headphones, and the model rocket I gave him hadn't even been opened. He was wearing the sunglasses constantly, and he had started wearing gloves sometimes.

I watched him closely, and tried to find differences. He was too clumsy. He was usually a little clumsy, but it went to another level. He told me he was banned from touching and carrying glass objects. Normally, we might would get a laugh out of that, once he finished relating his embarrassment, but he didn't laugh. Instead, he looked down, and didn't even smile about it. I was worried, and tried to figure out what he was doing, especially after I realized he was staying up too late. He was too cold, too.

I took him out for an ice cream, and he liked it, but he didn't act like himself. I kept trying, but I finally had to give up. His expression…he looked like I had slapped him when I started crying. I didn't mean to cry, but this was the first time he'd rejected me completely, down to my offer of help. I was hurt, badly. I've heard it's a mom's responsibility to look after her son, and I took it seriously. I had failed, but I couldn't apologize yet. I tried to make up for it, but it didn't work. We split further, and his actions at the hospital were horrible.

He disrespected Grandma, Grandma Ellison, the woman who had first interested me in psychology. She had grown up and helped people constantly. I had always wanted to be like her. Past the tough exterior, she was a kind woman, and I was shocked when I learned that she was suffering from depression. She went to a psychologist, and she got help. She had tried to help make the world a better place, and in her corner of the world she succeeded. But now she was dead, and nothing would change that. I guess that he was never very interested by her stories. It was interesting that two people could be so very different. He preferred Samantha's grandmother to his own relative.

He lied too much, and no matter how well he lied, I could see through it, even though I was sure he thought he was being subtle. He was being honest when he said he saw something, but it was impossible for him to have seen something unless he was hallucinating. I decided I was going to have a conversation with him. A long one, and I would probably need to bring it up with mom and dad if it continued. I couldn't think of anything that could cause such major personality changes. I was left helpless against whatever was going on, and I made my decision. When I got home, I would wait for the right moment, and I would make him tell me.

For now, however, I would wait. I had met someone I could help. His name was Spike, and he was a goth. He had taken it to an extreme, and had begun cutting, and he told me he had had thoughts of suicide before. He was someone I could help. I only wished that I could support my brother, and make him better. Maybe I was too attached to the situation, and I needed to take a step back. Before, if I wanted a second opinion, I would call Grandma. That wasn't an option now. It was time to begin my own investigations.

Hi! Read and review, please! How do you like my Jazz POV chapter? I hope y'all had a good Holloween!

-MiaulinK