The days of old give way to a conflicted present and uncertain future as I continue this dry spell of sorts with my writing. It’s been eight weeks now and I’ve only managed to get only a few chapters done on three different b0oks on my Watt Pad account.
Part of the reason is because my youngest brother is in prison for a crime he didn’t commit. The news of his incarceration stunned and infuriated the two of us. Only because nobody in our immediate family was kind enough to inform me that he was in prison–on maximum security watch–the month before.
The state of New Hampshire sent us a letter in late March and it’s left me with troubling thoughts. My brother isn’t capable of the accused crime, but things haven’t been proceeding in his case. The business that he labored to build up and promote is gone…$2 million dollars pissed away in just three short months of jail time.
His girl friend and finance is very stressed out and that’s left me wondering what’s going to happen to them both–should he be found guilty of the said crime early next month. (June 9th.)
As it stands, he’s looking at 15-20 years minimum; parole withstanding.
My family has been mum on the whole issue the entire time. Won’t even speak to me about it. Won’t even communicate to me, other than to try and convert me back to being a Jehovah’s Witness (again), but I’m just lost within myself. Losing myself in fantasies that I know may or may not come to pass, but they give me a certain amount of strength and solace in these trying times.
Giving me something to focus on other than my own inlaid fears.
I just can’t believe that my baby brother is in prison of all things. Being accused of the worst crime imaginable and not having a shred of evidence to clear him of it.
Which makes this broken justice system of ours even more of a fucking joke.
I’ve exhausted myself asking questions to his finance, trying to make sense of the whole mess. And while that’s happening, try to reconnect with my work–but failing in that.
Everything’s been put on hold. I don’t have the energy to argue with people as much as I would like. I can’t even argue semantics with my wife if my life depended on it.
I’m just too shaken. And empty. And depressed. I wish there was something I could do for my brother. After all the hard work he put into going to college and his animation school, it’s all gone down the toilet because of this one incident. I don’t even know if he can recover from this. He’s up to his eyeballs in student debt–far worse than me–and he’s not in the best of health.
I only found out recently that he’s suffering from the same blood-clotting disorder as me and on the same medications. He’s very scared and alone.
I’m still angry at my family for not being more engaged with him. I mean, for fuck’s sake! He’s family! Why won’t they go see him or talk to him???
And I’m on the West Coast, which means I can’t go see him. I sent him a letter and in the middle of a second, but money has been so tight lately.
So I’m in a holding pattern. Hoping, praying that this resolves itself. Because 15-20 years taken from you is a long time, and he doesn’t deserve this kind of treatment. Not from anyone.
I just don’t know what to do. My emotional and psychological batteries are drained. My muse has left me for greener pastures and it may be awhile before I shake myself free of this rut and start over.
But I need to know about my brother. I need to know if he’s going to be all right.
I just need to know.