"My brother was killed when I was 13. There had been a fight at a nightclub, and my brother was not involved, but he was shot in the head as he tried to run away. He was very popular in my town, so there were many reporters and friends outside the hospital when I got there. When I walked in my mother was sitting in a chair, crying. She wouldn’t even look at me. She wouldn’t speak to me. Not only did I lose my brother that day, but I lost my mother too. Life from then on was about her suffering. She stayed home all day, she cried, she didn’t pay much attention to us. Nothing was allowed to be more important than her suffering. Nobody else was allowed to have important problems. Her pain had to be worse than everyone else’s. She preferred it that way."
Getting really into Jimmy Eat World like 10 years too late
Write the kind of story you would like to read. People will give you all sorts of advice about writing, but if you are not writing something you like, no one else will like it either.