When it came time to say something at the funeral, I looked out at the few friends my brother had, and I knew I had to say words that would matter. “I miss my brother,” I said, “and I love my brother, but my brother made a lot of mistakes, and you muthafuckas need to grow up. He’s dead because of the fucked-up mistakes that he made. Look at the consequences of what you do, look at the choices you make. That’s all I can say.” I was just so angry at him for not fighting. He left me alone.
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