The human subconscious is a powerful force, one that shouldn’t be ignored. This is a short story about the power of mine, and how it led to a very unfortunate accident last night. Unfortunately, it requires a long backstory, something I’ve been avoiding: my brother, Gary.
I won’t give the full story, as many who know me are familiar with it, and there’s a version on this site in the “about” section (with links) for those who want more details. Here’s the condensed version:
Before my arrest, Gary and I were best friends. We spoke daily, and he was my most trusted confidant, aside from my wife. After my arrest, I was denied bond unless I surrendered all my Bitcoin (visible on the blockchain) or agreed not to move it until after the trial. I signed a document stating that if I moved it, they could throw me back in jail to await trial, which Gary witnessed. When I returned home from the bond hearing, Gary offered to keep my legitimate business, Coin Ninja, afloat. Since I couldn’t access the internet, I gave him my password file to manage domain names and such. I trusted him. I told him I didn’t think there were any crypto wallets in the file, but if there were, to let me know immediately and definitely not move anything. He promised he wouldn’t. About a month later, a few days after my birthday celebration, my lawyer called. My Bitcoin had moved, and they were holding an emergency hearing to revoke my bond. I had no idea how it moved. My first call was to Gary, seeking comfort. He said, “I’m playing video games with my friends,” and hung up. That was the last time I spoke to him. I soon realized he must have found a Bitcoin wallet in my password file and stolen some—700 BTC, to be precise, over several days, including my birthday. He was at my house, looking me in the eyes, while secretly stealing my freedom.
I informed my lawyer, who told me not to contact Gary, as it could implicate me. I sent word through my parents for him to return it, or he’d go to jail with me. He lied to my family, creating a rift. That birthday dinner was the last time our family was together.
Even though I remained out on bond after surrendering my remaining Bitcoin, my judge distrusted me for the next year. Every motion was denied, and hundreds of thousands of dollars in legal fees were wasted.
About a year later, Gary began spending the $40 million he stole. He bought luxury apartments and Ferraris, and spent $1.2 million at a Miami strip club. My friends sent me videos of him throwing my money to crowds. This led to his arrest. He surrendered the unspent Bitcoin for a lesser charge of wire fraud, something I couldn’t do because of his actions. He got four years, more than my three, and served time at this very camp. I’ve never spoken to him since. He betrayed me, ruined my credibility with the court, and tore my family apart.
He never apologized. A month before I came here, he sent a half-hearted apology via Instagram, only because my dad made him.
Since arriving here, inmates have recognized me as Gary’s brother. Random people yell, “I know your brother!” This is always loaded. If they liked him, what lies did he tell? If they didn’t, do they think we’re close? Do they want money he owes? So, I tell people I don’t like him and share a bit of the story. Most people here disliked him, saying he bragged too much. Even some guards recognize me, which is disturbing. It’s hard being constantly reminded of someone I despise.
Last night, my subconscious finally punished me. Yesterday, an inmate told me I was sleeping in Gary’s old bunk. Thinking about this as I fell asleep, I had a dream about high school wrestling, perfecting a fireman carry. I was so good, I kept doing it—and then, boom. I woke up mid-flight, having thrown myself off the top bunk. I caught my head, but smashed my back on the floor. The embarrassment was worse than the pain. Luckily, everyone helped me up. I’ve been thinking about it all day. I’m sure my subconscious threw me off the bed because of my feelings towards Gary and my reluctance to write about him. I hope I heal before yoga on Monday, and that I can sleep without fear of flying.
Quit crying like a btch and do your time like man. -Gary
I think it’s time to own up to your actions Gary. It’s pretty messed up what you did to your own flesh and blood. Maybe a sincere apology is due……