I was 18 at the time. My mother passed away when was sixteen, and I was pretty much moving from home to home between my sisters and my brother. This time I stayed with my brother. Little did I know, he was having porblems of his own. He was having problems with his wife, had a mistress, who pregnant with their love child, and my brothers own kids in between this mess. Well I guess life got the best of my brother. He shot himself in the head. Blew his face right off. Well my sisters clean up the mess, and we buried him. The next day I was going to move back with my sister. I couldn't sleep that night, the shock of losing my brother finally set in. I started to cry. And from the hallway I heard my brothers voice say "I'm sorry baby..."I thought to myself "no way!". Maybe it was my imaganation, some wierd way of making my self cope with his death, you know any rational explation, I could give my self at that time. Every one in the house that night was female, and no one had a deep voice like my brother. Just to entertain my self, I went down the hall way to see what was up. Nothing. But when I passed the kicten I saw my brother. Drapped in white sheet and his hair covering his face. I was pretty much paralyzed. Not with fear but with shock. In a way he spoke to me, with out saying anything at all. He said " I love you, goodbye." I blinked my eyes and he was gone. I was his baby sister,and I loved my brother very much. To me he was my hero and did the best that he could. I told my oldest sister about my experience about two weeks later. She told me they buried him wrapped in white sheets, because they couldn't enbalm him. Freaky huh...........