My little and only brother, dylan, was born premature august 19,2011. I used to hate even the idea of him being born, because i was full of anger and jealousy that he would be born with what i’ve always wanted, a Dad. After my mom gave birth to dylan i went to the hospital with her friend. My mom was wearing a hospital goan, laying in the bed looking like a train wreck. Next to my moms hospital bed was dylan. Sleeping in a weird see through box was my brother. I moved to his bed and just stared down at the small innocent creature wearing an all blue outfit. I remember my mom telling me ‘Its okay honey you can pick him up’ my ears rang as i heard those words. But for the first time i held my brother in my hands i just stared down at him and though. I hated myself for being so negative and having hateful thoughts toward dylan. But i realised also, Im his older brother, hes going to look up to me when he grows up. i have a responsibility now. i can’t be the same negative person i was. no more skipping school, no more being someone not responsible. i’m his role model and i have to shape up my attitude up.