I was like a mother figure to my brother, because we're nine years apart. I was always overprotective of him, and I would never go to sleep if he wasn't home. We had secrets that nobody else will ever know, and like any other brother and sister, we fought too. I loved my brother dearly — he was the funniest guy you'll ever meet. Any little thing he said lit up a room, and if he started laughing — that was it.

Since my brother died, you realize who your true friends really are. People don't realize that I lost my brother, and that that's the hardest thing ever. Now we've found other victims, and we find comfort in each other. In two weeks I'm going to a benefit for another family that lost someone two years ago and still doesn't have enough money for a gravestone. Those are the people who I connect with the most.

Sometimes I feel like I'm stalking the detectives, because I call and I don't hear back. I always told them that even if they have nothing to report that I want to hear from them so that I know they're working on the case. David died a year ago, and I haven't heard anything — I haven't gotten any answers. It's so hard to go on, knowing that whoever did this to your loved one is walking the streets.

It's not possible for every homicide to be solved. But everybody was outside that day, and there were three people on the porch. [The attackers] came up to him at close range — still, nobody knows anything. I would personally appreciate it if police did their job. I refuse to believe that they have no ways of getting information. Something is not right in the way that they're investigating homicides.

It's awful, and now we're talking to other survivors and seeing that they're going through the same thing. We have close friends who had an even worse experience — they don't even know where to turn. I at least talk to my detective, but with [my friend] that doesn't even exist, because they just tell her that there's nothing. I just feel so bad for her.

That week before he died, everyone was so busy that I didn't get to speak to him that much. I was a little mad at him, because I wanted him to accept more responsibility. It really sucks — I never got to say goodbye to my brother, and he just died by himself. I don't know why people have to go through this. It just ruins your life forever.

"ANONYMOUS BOSTON" This multimedia installation runs from November 4–19 at the Fourth Wall Project, 132 Brookline Avenue, in Boston. For more information, visit

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