My little brother killed himself this year, far away from here. He was my target audience. My co-writer. My best friend. I told him I was proud of him, just before the end.
I feel like the soldier and the storyteller both. Winter comes for these mountains Jimmy loved, and now mom's new husband has turned into an abusive alcoholic. He reels her in and back again with slurring sweet talk. I can't stay here and I can't leave her. She won't confront him and she won't let me confront him.
But after watching this video, I know what must be done. The only way to end this without more violence is to tell mom an old story. And if I don't survive to see the winter, at least I'll see Jimmy again
Thank you Jazza.