People stick the term “worst day of my life” on any mediocre day, but it’s different when you actually experience it. What I thought was going to be a simple midwinter day, instead turned out to be my worst nightmare.
I was the only one that knew he was also home, I had talked to him, I should have known something was wrong. He was my best friend and I wasn’t there for him when he needed me most. I will always remember the most terrible day of my life, February 7th.

My brother came home at around 6pm that night, after barely saying hello and going straight to his room, I assumed he was just in a bad mood. I knew him better than I knew myself, from the sadness in his face to the way he pushed away the possibility of having a conversation, I should have known he wasn’t okay.

The first thing I heard was pounding on the door, followed by my mother’s screaming.

“Chris! Chris, what are you doing? What are you doing? Open the door!”

It was like those words were on repeat, I must have heard them fifteen times before the pounding and screaming stopped and there was complete silence. Chills ran through my body and one million possibilities of what could be happening clouded my head. I wanted to get up, leave my room, and see what was going on but I couldn’t move. My body was frozen, too terrified to face what was happening ten feet down the hall.

Two minutes felt like two hours, my mind began to clear after considering many logical options, my mom came in my room completely distraught.

“Go sit with Chris,” she demanded a little too loudly.

Heart racing at the speed of light, I managed to pick myself up and see my 16 year old brother lying on his bed, in complete distress.

“He just tried to kill himself,” I heard my mom cry out from a distance. It was like a bomb went off and completely obliterated everything I thought was true. Six heartbreaking words shattered my perfect world in an instant.

My best friend, my rock, my brother, was shattered.

Guilt. Sadness. Anger. Love. Thankfulness.

Countless amounts of emotions flooded into my body. It felt like the weight of the world was crushing me, something was dying inside of me. My legs gave out and I fell onto my brother’s bed.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry Maeghy. It’s okay. I’m okay. I’m here. I love you.” he embraced me and started to cry.
I could barely breathe as my mom pulled me off of him. I begged her to let me go to the hospital with them. I didn’t want to-I couldn’t leave my brother, but besides my efforts my mom brought me to my best friend’s house. Leaving me answerless and heartbroken. The night dragged on as I prayed for my brother to find peace. The love I had for him filled my heart.

It’s been less than a year and not a day goes by that I don’t think about February 7th. I still wake up screaming from horrific nightmares, I still worry when he gets upset, I still feel broken and afraid. Although he’s now living the perfect teenage life, that day still haunts me. My awareness of his depression and anxiety has skyrocketed. I believe the event will assist me in helping other people, so their families don’t have to go through the stress and the heartbreak that mine did.