Before I tell you this story, I want you to know that I don't mean to make you cry. I'm sorry if I do. I just want you to know about my brother.

I can still remember what he was like. His voice, his hair, his eyes, his smile. It's been so long ago but, I still remeber. I don't think I'll ever forget. It's hard when I think about how happy he was with the rest of the guys. Every time he'd come home from touring, he'd have so many stories to tell. Even though it's been a year, it still brings tears to my eyes. Probably always will. He was my older brother. How could it not?

It's gotten better. Mom and dad finally cleaned out his room. They stuffed all of his belongings into boxes, and hid them away in the attic. It took them so long. It took them a long time to even close the door.

His room...I'll never forget his room. The way he would always leave everything on the floor. He never knew which clothes were clean and which were dirty, because he always left them strewn on the floor, and the bed. The bed was never made, unless I made it for him. Mom refused to go in his room, it was so messy. So, I kept house for him when he was gone, and even when he was home. He called me his maid.

His morning schedule is another thing I'll always remember about him. When he was home, he'd sleep until around 11:30, then he'd slowly drag himself into the bathroom, spend around an hour in there, and by the time he emerged, he looked like he could go forever. But, by midnight, he'd be out like a light. He'd always just fall into bed, never bothering to turn out the light, or anything. I'd creep into his room every night at fifteen till one, and pull the covers over him, kiss him on the cheek, whisper good night, and then turn out the light, and leave. I loved him so much. Still do.

Why am I remaniscing about such a sad part of the past?

Yesterday was the one year anniversary of Nick's death. I still remember exactly what happened...

It was late one Friday night, and me, my mom, the boys' manager Donna, A.J.'s mom Denise, Nick, Brian, Howie, A.J., and Kevin were in the bus on our way home from a four-month tour in Canada. I had decided to go because I had just recently developed some sort of crush on Brian. I didn't really understand it. Plus, Nick wanted me to. But, Aaron hadn't gone.

It was about midnight, I think we were in Kentucky; I'm not sure. We pulled into this small hotel to spend the night. We walked in, and were in the proccess of making our way through a maze of hallways to find our room, when Nick remembered something that he left in the bus that he said he needed but, probably just wanted. If only he had waited ten more minutes...he would be alive today.

Anyway, he grabbed me and Brian, and took us with him. When we got to the bus, Nick pulled on the door handle and noticed it wasn't locked. He thought it was strange but, didn't say or think anything else of it. He just walked in, me and Brian behind him. When he turned on the light, he gasped, as did Brian and I. All of our belongings had been dumped on the floor; the bunks had been ransacked, sheets pulled off, mattresses overturned. Then, the man appeared. Tall, billowy, muscular, dressed all in black with a mask over his face, covering everything but his nose, mouth, and his eyes. I'll never forget those eyes, either. His eyes were very blue, startling so. They didn't hide his fear at all yet, magnified it. He had a gun. I even remember the conversation...

"Don't come any closer!" he had yelled, his voice cracking. He looked so scared, and the gun was shaking in his hand. "I'll shoot!"

"Sir, give me the gun and everything'll be fine," Nick had said calmly, taking a step closer and reaching out his hand.

"Back up!" the gunman had cried frantically. "I'll shoot!" We could all tell he didn't want to shoot us but, would if neccessary.

"Sir please-," Brian had started but, the man cut him off.

"Look ya stupid kids!" he snapped. "If you don't back up and listen to me, I swear I'll shoot you!"

"Give me the gun," Nick had said firmly, still holding out his hand to the man. The man had looked like he was about to give the gun up but, then, he suddenly stopped shaking and stood up tall, holding the gun in both hands.

"Back up," he said sternly. Nick remained where he was.

"Nick, please," Brian and I had pleaded. "Listen to him."

"Oh, so your name is Nick," the gunman said. "Nice to meet ya." Then, he punched Nick in the face.

"Nick!" I screamed as he staggered backwards. I tried to run to him but, the man pushed me back onto the bed Brian and I had been sitting on.

The man punched Nick in the chin then. I began crying and Brian began whispering "Fight back, Nick! Fight back," under his breath. The gunman punched Nick in the stomach, and he fell to his knees.

"Please stop, I'll do anything," Nick pleaded. Blood was coming from his mouth and a gash above his eye. His cheek and chin were bruised purple. The man just laughed, and kicked Nick, first in the chin, and then the stomach, knocking the wind out of him. "Ohh," Nick moaned as he fell the rest of the way to the ground. The man then stepped on his chest. Nick coughed and moaned, and begged the man to stop. Brian and I were frozen with fear. We couldn't talk, we couldn't move. We could only sit there and watch Brian's best friend- my brother- being beat to death. And what made it worse was knowing he had done nothing to deserve it; he had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

We found out later that the gun was never even loaded.

Suddenly, the man stood up, and ran out of the bus, dropping the gun beside Nick. Brian and I ran to Nick. He was lying on the ground, gasping for breath.

"Brian, g-go get h-help," he stammered. Brian just nodded and ran out of the bus; he was too hysterical to speak. Then, Nick looked up at me.

"P-please, don't-t c-cry. I'll be-be o-kay. E-everyth-thing's go-gonna be a-a-alright," he stammered. "I-I love y-you." Then, he closed his eyes. "I love you," he whispered. Then, he was silent.

That's when I started screaming. I screamed his name over and over again, as if it would wake him up. I was so scared. I screamed and cried, and by the time Brian's tear-streaked, pale face appeared again, with everyone behind him, I was gasping for air. Brian came over and sat down beside me. He hugged me and held my convulsing body, crying himself, smoothing my hair, trying to calm me- as well as himself- down. I still remember how warm his body felt against the cold of the late October air. A.J. just stood there, staring at Nick's dying body, screaming profanities at the top of his lungs, and swearing to kill anyone who even looked at him. But no one cared. Not even Denise. My mom was in hysterics, screaming at everyone to do something- anything, to save her baby. But nothing could.

I don't know how long it took the paramedics to get there. And I don't know how long Brian and I sat there. I remember someone wrapping a blanket around us, and asking if we wanted to ride with Nick in the ambulance. We didn't. We couldn't bare to look at his bruised body, knowing that we could have done something to stop the man from hitting him. Someone, probably a paramedic, helped us stand up, and helped us into a car- I don't know who's. We stayed close, the blanket wrapped around us, Brian's arms wrapped around me. We walked that way, we sat in the car that way, I don't think we let go for around an hour. It was comforting, for both of us. I wouldn't let anyone touch me, talk to me, or comfort me- except Brian. No one else could. No one else understood. We had some sort of special bond now, I could feel it. I don't know why. Maybe it's because we both saw it happen, maybe it was because we both lost such a big part of us that night. I don't know... it's probably both reasons, and more.

When we got to the hospital, they took Nick to ICU to try to save his life.

The rest of my family arrived awhile later. My father's face was tear-stricken, as were Lesley's and Angel's. Aaron was asleep in my father's arms. My dad woke him up, and he immediately remembered where he was and why he was there. He began to cry, and ran to me, jumping on my lap and holding me tight. Brian, Aaron, and I sat there, crying, praying, comforting each other, with the blanket still wrapped around us.

The doctor came out and said that Nick had massive internal injuries, and they were taking him into surgery to try to stop the bleeding.

It started out good but, then, everything went wrong. I don't know exactly what happened. All I knew was what the doctor said. He came out of the room, a somber, sad expression on his face and said something to a nurse who was standing nearby with a clipboard. I'll never forget those awful words. "Time of death...4:01 A.M." As he approached us, the look on his face told me what had happened, and I knew before he said a thing.

"I'm sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Carter...," was all I heard. I ran out the double doors, gasping, crying, trying to get away from the truth. I heard Brian calling my name but, I didn't stop. I kept running, until I realized I was in the parking lot of the hospital. That's where I broke down. I fell to my knees, covering my hands with my face, crying, letting everything out, whispering profanities under my breath. I surprised myself but, I didn't care. I couldn't even feel the cold. I felt numb. Brian dropped down beside me, and hugged me tight. I could hear him sobbing, and feel him shaking, even though I couldn't see him. We sat there for around half an hour- no one had bothered to go after us-, until the tears stopped.

"Nick wouldn't want us to do this," Brian whispered. I nodded, because I could barely talk from all the screaming I had done. We stood up, and walked back into the hospital, his arm around my shoulders, my head on his. Everyone gave us sympathetic looks, for they recognized us, and knew what happened. Some were even crying a little. I guess everybody loved the Backstreet Boys.

It took a month for me to talk to my parents about Nick. Even then, I held most of my emotions back, only letting a few tears fall. It wasn't until Donna called a councelor to come talk to all eleven of us that I really spilled my guts and let everything out. I felt alot better after that. Everyone did.

Brian, A.J., Kevin, and Howie tried to make another album but, it didn't turn out too good- their hearts just weren't in it. They couldn't even think of touring without part of the group. So, the Backstreet Boys slowly faded out. But their legacy will continue until every person in the world who ever knew who they were is gone.

No one ever talks about Nick anymore. But, no one will ever forget him. After about five months, it was like the Backstreet Boys had never exsisted, because the magazines stopped writing about them, and stores stopped selling their old CD's. Brian, A.J., Kevin, Howie, and I wrote a tribute book about Nick. It sold millions of copies world-wide. It told about Nick, and it told the actual story of what happened that night. Straight from the horse's mouth, I guess you could say.

Nick's room isn't empty. It's full of memories. The guys and I took a bunch of pictures of Nick, -everything from baby pictures, to pictures taken the day he died- and wallpapered his room with them. My favorite is one that was taken at about five in the morning. He had just woke up, his hair was all messed up, and all he had on was a pair of shorts. He had this tired, half smile on his face, and he was trying to shield himself from the camera. Brian's in the background, cracking up, and pointing. I love that picture. I love his room. We call it the Memory Room.

"...You can't see him, you can't hear him, you can't touch him, I know that. That's what makes it so hard. But, he's here. And, he's smiling. Because he's watching the people he loves keep his legacy alive. Nick is in each and every one of our hearts, and our minds. His spirit is here, sitting among us, and he still loves us all just as much as he did when he was on earth. He's not dead, he never will be. He'll live forever in our hearts and memories. He's in a better place now, and someday, we're gonna meet again in that place. Don't ever forget that. The day you do, is the day Nick Carter no longer exists."

~Brian Littrell, speech given at Nick's funeral.

-Email Tabitha