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His name was Michael, 20 years old, and only a month older than I. He was in a car accident, I don't know how long ago, maybe an hour or so or just a few minutes ago. I was informed by my parents several minutes ago, and im over at the house so the younger siblings are seen off to school in the morning.

We were kind of close as children, always riding bikes together around the grandparent's house, and getting buzz haircuts from our poppop (grandfather). But as we got older, we grew more distant. I don't think I've really sat down and really talked with him since high school, but we've seen him around and at family reunions if he wasn't out doing something stupid.

I guess you could say he was the black sheep of the family. He became very delinquent once middle school came around. Drugs, alcohol, sleeping around, road racing, you name it he's probably done it.

I'm not sure how to take this honestly. Right now I'm rather emotionless, my mother was a wreck. (He was her older sister's son.) When my mom and dad left to drive over to the rest of the family, she just kept saying "I love you." Hm.

I'd like to hope Mikey's in a better place, but I have more doubt than assurance. Too late now.

Suppose I shan't sleep tonight, conundrum of mortality rattling in my mind and all.