I grew up on a large plot of land my parents owned.

They used to be scientists, biogenetic researchers to be precise,

but gave up their careers for a simpler life.

My parents' property is about 150 acres with a cattle farm and dense woods that I used to enjoy exploring.

There was a large pond in the center of the property's woods that I wasn't even aware of until I stumbled upon it by accident.

When I brought it up to my parents, they angrily forbade me from ever going near the pond.

My parents seldom got mad, but were no nonsense when they did.

So I heeded their warning.

This didn't stop me from asking questions.

It's dangerous, my father said when I asked him one day.

That's where your brother drowned.

My older brother, Darryl, died. That's where your brother drowned.

My older brother, Darrell, died when I was three years old. I was previously told he drowned, but didn't know it happened on our own property.

My parents have a lot of pictures of Darryl.

He's easy to identify most of them because of the Army action figure he always had,

which was his favorite toy.

He took it everywhere with him, my mother said the one time I brought it up while going

through a family album.

He was so attached to that toy.

We got it for him one Christmas when he was five years old.

That was all she could say, before getting choked up, after which I changed the subject.

I seldom brought him up afterwards because I hated seeing my mother upset.

...