There is something wrong with my five-year-old brother, and I have proof.

My little brother died when he was just two years old. He was a happy, healthy toddler, and his death was a complete shock. He had a cold, but the same cold was going around, and we all had it. My parents even joked that buying tissues in boxes and not by the case was a waste of time and money, we went through so many.<br><br>But one morning, my brother didn't wake up. <br><br>My parents were devastated. I was fourteen at the time, and other than their parents, I was the only person left to mourn my brother. I'm an only child, and so he was the only sibling I will ever have.<br><br>My parent's were heartbroken. They had a closed casket funeral and went straight home after the burial. But what really solidified their grief was when they received news that the tissue company had changed manufacturers, and the new tissue contained a bacterium that killed by destroying your sinuses. It was highly contagious, and over 350,000 people died from complications. My little brother was one of them, and I remember my father saying, "It's better this way. You don't want to know what kind of damage it did before it killed him."<br><br>That was two years ago, and my parents were still grieving. My father took my brother's death the hardest. He moved out of the house, citing that it was too difficult to live there without his little boy. I think it was the fact that we lived in a 3-bedroom home, and my parents had converted the master bedroom into a nursery. His things were still everywhere, and my dad only came home once a week to check on me while my mom attended therapy appointments.<br><br>But then, something changed. They started receiving calls from an unknown number. You'd pick up the phone, and there would be someone on the other end, but they would never say anything. Just static. At first, my mom thought it was my dad, and she would yell at him for making her think that he wasn't. She'd hang up, and the minute she did, the phone would ring again. This happened for almost a month before my parents thought to change the number. We went from a regular household phone line to a voiceover IP phone, which couldn't be traced.<br><br>And that's when we started getting text messages. "He's better now." "I fixed him." "You guys don't know how it feels until you've lost one." And then my mom finally called the police when we received, "You're going to forget about me one of these days." <br><br>I remember the officer asking her if the message was threatening, and my mom saying, "I don't know, but it just feels wrong."<br><br>"Feels wrong?" The cop repeated. <br><br>"Yeah. It just doesn't even sound right." My mom replied.<br><br>"Huh." He said after a long silence. "Sounds like you guys have gotten a lot of calls. Previously, this seemed to happen for a month, but it's been two months now. When do you think you'll want to stop?" <br><br>My mom was taken aback, almost irritated by the question. "I don't know, whenever he stops calling, I guess." <br><br>"I see." He replied. "Well, this person doesn't seem to be a threat. Your best bet is to just ignore him." And with that, he left.<br><br>My mom and I did as we were told, but it got worse. The messages were more frequent, and there'd be random visits from people claiming to sell things like cookies or candy. Random visits from salespeople were normal, but these people didn't have any with them. Instead, they had out of the box candy. Sometimes it was even unwrapped and half-eaten. My mom stopped answering the door after a man came to the door eating a chocolate bunny and saying, "I've been thinking about him a lot lately. I'd like to see him if I could." <br><br>My mom slammed the door and called the police. When they got there, the man was gone, but my mom described what he looked like. The cops said he'd had several run-ins with the man and thought he might be the one making all the calls, but they thought it was odd that he described the man as eating a chocolate bunny.<br><br>"Why?" My mom asked. "What does that have to do with anything?"<br><br>"Well, the man that matches your description happens to be a chocolatier. He works for that chocolatier down on Main. I can almost bet that he was on his way to work and that candy wasn't for personal consumption." He paused and then continued. "If he has been stalking you, we'll find out and have him charged. In the meantime, be careful and keep an eye on your daughter." <br><br>And then the candy started showing up. It would be in strange places. In the drywall. Disguised as fruit. My favorite was when I opened my school binder and found a stash of gummy bears. The man had even taken the time to sort them by color. <br><br>It was on one of these days that my mom started showing symptoms of that deadly cold. She was very sick, and it reminded me of my brother before he died. I was scared because I knew what the tissue could do. <br><br>When she received the call that was the final straw, she was in bed trying to feel better. "Hello?" She answered, her voice very nasally. "Yeah, I'm doing just fine. The candy was very sweet, and the calls are very funny. The house is spotless." She waited for a moment before saying, "We don't want him back! He's dead, and we're happy that he is." There was another pause before she hung up. <br><br>"You know, I didn't know who it was at first because I had blocked the number, but you're stupid. I know it's you." She said, her voice trembling with anger. She was holding back tears, and it was affecting her voice.<br><br>"You'll change your mind." A voice replied. "I just hope you can afford the funeral."<br><br>"Oh, I can't wait." My mom said and hung up. I heard her crying in her room until she fell asleep.<br><br>I was in my bed going through my textbooks when I heard the front door open and shut. I thought it was my dad dropping something off, but when I looked out my window, it was that man eating the chocolate bunny. I ran downstairs and found my mom dead on the floor. She had that tissue in her hand, and I remember wishing I had never told her about seeing it around the house. <br><br>I was in shock, until I smelled the chocolate. The man had left a piece of chocolate on the kitchen table. I picked it up, and he was right behind me. He grabbed me and held me in a tight grip. "I did this all for you," He said. "You know what your mom did? Your poor little brother was just sick, but she smothered him. She was tired of him getting sick all the time, and your father did nothing to stop her, so I had to get rid of them. They'd had your brother for years, and now they're gone, and it's your turn to take their place." He said as he dragged me out of my house. I was too stunned to struggle and was also afraid of the man's strength. <br><br>I passed out from the pain of him holding me so tightly, and when I came to, I was in a small room. It wasn't very big, maybe 15 feet long and 10 feet wide. It had a twin-sized bed in the corner, a desk next to it, and a small bathroom. That was it. There was no window, or even a mirror. I started looking for obvious cameras, and sure enough, there were two. One in each corner of the room. <br><br>This is what I've pieced together so far. I think this man ran a child pornography ring, but the police were closing in on him, so he killed all the kids and replaced them. <br><br>I woke up one day not knowing how long I'd been there. I went to the desk to find a stash of notebooks, a couple boxes of ballpoint pens, and a computer. I opened the laptop, and it connected to the Wi-Fi. I opened the browser, and there was a message waiting for me. "Dear girl, the man that took you never thought you'd see this, but it's me, your brother. I told you in those texts. I told you that I was better now, that I had been fixed. I've been watching you, and I saw what this man does. He's a sick man, and I think you know this already. You have to get out of here. I've been trying to get you out, but I'm not strong enough. I need you to believe in me. Convince them that you're me. Do it, and we'll both be ok." And that's when I noticed that the camera in one of the corners wasn't a camera at all. It was a small tablet showing the camera feed from a different room. In that room was the man.<br><br>I sat at the desk for a couple of hours, thinking about how I was going to do it. In the end, I decided to just wing it. I opened the browser and clicked on the one app. This man had obviously never heard of incognito. <br><br>The browser opened to his Gmail account. He had several unread emails, but the one that caught my eye was from the FBI. They were closing in on him. I opened it, and sure enough, they had been trying to get into all his accounts, but they were locked down tight. They were going to have to get a search warrant to get into