“Kristoph… it’s over.

Judge: The law is the end product of many years of history… the fruit of human knowledge! (…) It is this fruit that we receive, and pass on, and face in our time. And it is always changing, growing. Nurturing it is our task as human beings.

Except for you, Kristoph.

You aren’t changing. You’ve stopped.”

What an odd day it was. The trial when my older brother was taken from me. I lost everything. I still remember it quite clearly, as it left such an imprint on my mind that I couldn’t block it out. I was at a loss for words during a great portion of the trial, and I couldn’t believe that the truth was finally coming out. It was finally a time to speak about what had been eating away at me all these years. My perfect big brother cracking under pressure was a tough thing to see. What I realized was that my brother Kristoph’s behavior only stemmed from our past and from the lack of love both of us received while we were growing up. It was tragic, but unfortunately there was nothing I could do. As much as I love him, I will never be able to forgive him for the things he did.

It all started the day that Father left our home for the first time. Our family undoubtedly fell apart. Until then, everything was perfect. We lived in the city of Los Angeles, California and had a nice home. Everyone was happy, and neither of us would have wanted to change a thing. It was quite easy to tell that Father was a good man, despite what his occupation turned him into. From the few years I knew him, even I, the young one was able to figure out this much. Kristoph, my older brother knew a lot more than I did at the time. He knew that Father to him, was nothing more than a fake. Being a con artist, Dad’s lifestyle often interfered with the family. He often disappeared, more and more as time went on, nowhere to be found, only to return again and then cause more heartache. He was also frequently running from the law, because a couple times, people caught on and saw through his schemes.

Mother didn’t have the time to care for us. She supported us all by herself with help from no one. She constantly broke down, and she had often lost her composure. Mother tried to hide it, but she wasn’t as successful as she wanted to be. Mother was wrapped up in her own emotions. There was a time when she couldn’t take anymore. Unfortunately, it came a lot sooner than either of us had expected. When that occurred, the both of us were just beginning our adventure through hell and back.

One early morning, when I was 6 years old, I woke up only to find that Mother was gone, and my brother Krissi crying next to my bedside trying to squeak out a couple words to share the bad news. She disappeared, permanently. Father also never returned. Perhaps she was trying to find him. She may still be alive, or she possibly could have left this world. And in Father’s line of work, I wouldn’t be surprised if he had passed on as well. As sad of a thought as it is, I don’t remember him that much either. It pains me to think of these times, but the memories are slowly fading away with time.

The night before was the last that I had seen my mother. Kristoph, my older brother, was the only friend and family I had left, as I had no other siblings. Our family had always been quite small. If we were to keep going, it would be up to me to uphold the Gavin name and start a new family of my own. Grandma was already deceased – she had cancer and Grandpa couldn’t deal with her loss so he had committed suicide at the age of 78. I never learned exactly how he left us, though, but some things are better left unknown. I don’t remember my other set of grandparents. I wish I could have found out more about all of them, but now that mother and father are gone, and I’m on my own, there’s no chance in finding out. All I have are pictures. Though pictures are supposed to ‘say a thousand words’, I’ve learned that sometimes they don’t.

Moving forward, Kristoph was the one who raised me from that point on. He was the one who taught me right from wrong. Krissi was also the most intelligent student in his grade, and at the time possessed common sense and honesty. I looked up to him, and he cared for me. Although he knew it was his job, he performed it excellently and I loved him very much. We had a very good relationship, though living conditions made everything harder. Krissi had a huge heart, and it showed. It was hard not to see it. Krissi and I had always hung out together – whether it was spending some time at People Park, or going to concerts and magic shows together over at the Sunshine Coliseum. (Krissi had connections – he always got us free tickets!!) We were inseparable.

Living on one income was tough, though. Money caused a great amount of stress. We lived paycheck to paycheck, barely able to afford food and an apartment to live in, as I was too young to hold a job. He also wanted me to have the most ‘perfect’ life possible in our situation, and that clearly caused him trouble as well. It’s a known fact – everyone snaps. When Kristoph broke down every once in a while, I was his only shoulder to lean on. If it wasn’t for my Krissi, though, I would not have made it this far. I have to say that I owe everything to him.

Worst of all, poor Krissi thought that everything was his fault, because he couldn’t patch up the situation at all. In his eyes, he was living through the guilt of being unable to do anything, similar to what I feel now. Krissi saw through everything. I didn’t, at the time. If I did, I probably would have turned out like him. The slightest amount of darkness is exactly like atroquinine – it slowly creeps up on you, and then moves in for the kill. The both of us knew more than we should have about life in general. Ignorance is truly bliss. Looking back, I believe that is the reason that Krissi was later obsessed with this poison. It was the perfect analogy to what we felt inside. Krissi wanted the world to feel like he did – and the darkness not only pulled him away from who he was, but it also destroyed him. He thought that the world was against him. Now, I realize why, but at the time, I could barely understand what was going on. I was still quite young, and I still had at least a sliver of my innocence left. I lived in confusion at the time. One minute, everything was happy and lovey dovey, and the next, Krissi would be depressed, bringing me down as well because I hated seeing my brother sad.

On a different note, around the age of 13, I moved to Germany for a short while to live abroad under the care of a man named Manfred von Karma. It was a great experience to get in touch with my roots – our family was originally from Germany and we all spoke the language fluently. I didn’t have a choice in moving out, though, as things were becoming even more unstable. While his daughter was almost a spitting image of him (which was something I knew I didn’t want to be), I learned some valuable things. That’s when I decided I wanted to be a prosecutor, just like the two of them and took from the training and the experience what I thought mattered. Kristoph was alone back home in Los Angeles (our apartment was down the road from our old house) and he was driving himself crazy. I tried to raise money to get him out to where I was at, but to no avail. The hourly wage at my job in a locally owned music shop wasn’t paying enough, and I’d have to complete law school as well as take on a good number of cases. I was glad I worked there, though, as it helped me develop an intense passion for music. Fortunately, I was able to raise the money and travel back within a couple years and a slight change of plans. The von Karmas helped out as well. Without them, there was no way I could have stayed in touch with Kristoph through phone and the mail during my time in Germany. Krissi hadn’t left the state so he was easy to track down.

While I was in Germany, I also had made a wonderful new friend, who went by the name of Miles Edgeworth. Though he was definitely a little withdrawn, I knew deep down inside that he was a very kind person and that one day, he would come around. During the year 2016, however, Manfred was convicted of murder, something I had never expected. At that time, I tried to support his daughter Franziska, and her ‘adopted’ older brother Miles. The both of us actually had more in common than we thought we did. I was used to living with Krissi and so life experience helped me deal. We all took care of each other when the law stole Manfred from us. Franziska, Miles, and I brought a new meaning to the words ‘dysfunctional family’, but it worked out. Money was no issue – Manfred had left a lot for his only daughter and she helped out in whatever way she could. When living together, we all saw the ‘good sides’ of each other that nobody else ever knew. It was like we were all meant to be together. As much as I loved Miles and Franziska, I felt like I had lost a part of me when I had to leave Krissi because I didn’t know when I would see him again. He was my brother after all, and there was no one in this world who could replace him. No matter where I was, or no matter what I was doing, there was no way I could ever forget my Kristoph. I really wish I could have been there for him. The letters he had written back to me were extremely vague, and it was tough to get a sense of what was going on. I suppose Krissi didn’t want to bother me with his internal conflicts and insecurities. Being his only brother, I wanted to help him, though. I really wish I could have. I begged my Kristoph, asking him to lean on me once again, like he did in the past, but for some reason he just couldn’t. It was like he was distancing himself from me, and he wasn’t hiding it very well.

By the time I came back home, Kristoph had finished his years in the state college already. Kristoph wanted to go off to law school but he still didn’t have the money. He wanted to become an attorney. It was tough, but I saved up and helped him financially to the best of my ability, as a way of saying thank you for everything sacrificed for me over the years. I thought it would be fun – him and I battling each other in the courtroom. It just happened that way. At the time, I had started a rock band to help ease the stresses of daily life. It was a great way to let off steam. As “Decisive Evidence”, we released our first demo. Then we changed the name to “the Gavinners” because of legal matters. (How ironic.) Kristoph was the original drummer until schoolwork took more priority and he immersed himself into his books even more. He wanted to be perfect, and to succeed, and he felt that the rock band only held him back. It was a shame that Kristoph wanted to quit the band – he was the most talented drummer we had. If only he was there when we went platinum… Ever since then, he became the man who would read the dictionary to pick up new vocabulary and always had some kind of book in his arms. Krissi had become very antisocial and all he wished was to be reading his books all by his lonesome. He grew up too quickly – the teenage, immature Kristoph I had known was gone.

Even though the situation was a little bit easier, as we could support each other, during the time Krissi was in law school, I noticed something that I had originally thought was inconceivable. His personality had completely changed. It was like Kristoph was an entirely different person. He became cold, cynical, and weaker than ever before. The old Kristoph I had known was dead. It really took a while to sink in, though, as I lived in denial all those years. All he cared about was finishing school and education. It was hard to see him that way, and then I realized things had already spiraled out of control. It was too late. I still remember trying to talk to him. It was quite difficult and disappointing. Apparently my words didn’t mean much to him. Kristoph refused any assistance I tried to give him and turned away. It was a terrible sight. I knew that the end was near. I wish there was something I could do to stop it. He thought he was invincible – like nothing could happen to him.

Krissi was never happy anymore – he felt incompetent all the time if things didn’t go as planned or if his plans had backfired. The careful and meticulous Kristoph was becoming careless in his habits and doubtful of his own ability. The calm and collected personality trait he developed was simply a façade – and though all those around him were enamored with it, he hid himself so well no one could ever guess what was wrong. Krissi couldn’t fool me, though. I guess that’s part of what makes him my brother… I knew Kristoph better than he knew the volumes of books he read. He seemed very dignified and intelligent on the outside, but of course I knew that things were quite a bit different than that. As I had said in the courtroom one time, “I’ve known for some time that an impenetrable darkness has lurked at the bottom of this. A darkness that has swallowed even myself.” I have never spoken truer words. We were in this together.

Shortly after it hit me that Kristoph changed, two innocent victims were robbed of their lives, and it was his doing. Kristoph was regressing. He was holding up so well, and it all fell apart very quickly. Everyone makes mistakes, but not serious enough to warrant murder. I wish there was something in my power that I could do to stop him. I totally didn’t see it coming. “Honestly, I wanted to believe you”, Kristoph, but I see now why I couldn’t. When you told me that you didn’t do it, I couldn’t help but think otherwise.

I’m guilty as well, though, but for an entirely different reason. It was me that put the final nail in Kristoph’s coffin. I needed answers. At that point in time, though, his outcome didn’t matter. He was already in solitary confinement, waiting for his death sentence to be carried out. Nothing could change what he had previously done. All that trial did was shorten the time he had left to live. I don’t think Kristoph cared very much about that because he had already come to accept that he was on his way out. Kristoph was clearly a different person by then, as I had mentioned, so it was only for the better. Though I’ll never see him again, at least I can try to get over everything a little faster. When they say that ‘time heals all wounds’, I wonder if that’s really true. These experiences left a large, gaping wound that seems like it is beyond repair. I couldn’t bring myself to visit my brother in that solitary confinement cell. If I came, I wouldn’t be able to find a single word to say to Kristoph. The overpowering emotions would have just torn at me even more. Kristoph was executed last month.

Coming to accept the fact that my brother had become a criminal was very tough, and I’m still not 100% there. I don’t think I will ever be. He was trying maybe a little too hard to defend the subconscious ‘devil’ inside himself. I despise criminals – I live for the truth. Yes, a prosecutor’s job is to try to get the defendant a guilty verdict, but I strongly believe that the evidence reveals itself in the end. If the defendant is innocent, so be it. Winning or losing doesn’t matter all that much to me, as long as justice is served. A trial record is a bunch of meaningless numbers. If you’re wandering on a path that isn’t quite working out – maybe it was meant to be that way. The truth can be excruciating, which is something I learned the hard way. It’s very easy to try to run away from your surroundings. In addition, I know I’m guilty of that. Kristoph was as well, but he didn’t realize it. The main difference is that Kristoph didn’t know that he had the power to stop himself.

I hope you, the reader, learned a few things from the story of my life. It’s been a long haul, but life sucks and we just have to deal with it. It’s beyond our control. And even though I still have a lot ahead of me, hopefully I will be able to survive. I know that I’m not a child anymore, and that I should be able to fend for myself, but everyone needs that special someone. I’ll probably have to go through years of therapy just to get over everything, but that doesn’t matter. It’s important to remember the good times. Kristoph will always be my brother. As much as I hated the person he became, and as much as I couldn’t bear to see him self-destruct, he will always have a place in my heart.

Just like any traumatic experience, the moment of truth will always be engraved in my mind. Running itself over and over again like a terrible nightmare. It is the one memory that I know will not fade. “I just couldn’t forget what was important to me, even if I tried. In fact, I haven’t.” And I never will. It seems easier to remember the painful experiences than the good ones. My brother provided a new meaning for the saying ‘Good things aren’t meant to last.’ I wonder how I get through every day. It’s not fun being alone. “Only now, do I understand why. Frankly, I’m relieved.” All these years have taught me a great deal, but what I still need to learn is how to move on.