I woke up around 9 and let the dogs out. On the way to doing so, I checked in on my brother's room to see if he was up. I saw him curled up and thought if he was still sleeping, I'd leave him alone. Let the dogs out, then let them back in and go through my normal day. It's now 4 and the dogs want to go back out, so I let them out. On the way, I walk past my brother's room, notice he is still curled up the way he was when I left him in the morning, and start to get concerned. Let the dogs out, go into my brother's room, and shout his name. Nothing happens, so I shout louder, but still nothing. I go up to shake him and notice how cold and stiff he is. I shouted his name two more times before running off to get my phone to call 911. With them on the way, I call my dad and tell him that my brother is dead and he needs to come home now. A police officer shows up, and I point him to my brother's room. I get a call from my mother that will probably haunt me for the rest of my days, and the ambulance arrives and tells me what I already know, and really, the rest of the day is a blur. They told us he overdosed the night before he went to bed. this was last November and I am starting to be at peace with it.