There were two deaths on November 2, 1995, in Paterson, New Jersey. The death of my seven-year old brother due to a form of cancer called Glioblastoma (malignant brain tumor). I was nine-years old at the time of his untimely passing. I was a nine-year old with an impressionable mind that was fragile. I was a nine year old who had to face the abandonment of his father. I was a nine-year-old living in a single parent household with my mom who I looked at as my mom and dad. I was a nine-year old who had a helluva life that left me bitter and resentful. No one saw this coming, not even me. He Was Dying Inside of Me, depicts what hell was like for me after my brother died. Somewhere in the midst of my troubles I died too and anyone in my circle suffered. This book maybe small in size, but the contents are larger than life. In my teen years I suffered from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. And now at the age of twenty-five I am still suffering from the traumatic experiences that I've endured. But today, I'm taking the initiative to let my pain have a conversation, something I never thought I'd ever have the strength to do.