My name’s Ryan and I need to tell everyone my story.
Picture this: be a white male, twenty-three years old with a tiny bit of Aspergers, and live with a busy mother and father who focus on work above all else. Then, have a seventeen-year-old brother who is a YouTube sensation. Two million subscribers roughly, with 365,492 followers on X, 100,308 Instagram followers, 73,901 Snapchat followers, 10,478 Facebook friends, and blah, blah, blah . . . What’s my biggest accomplishment? Member of the chess club, have a job at Chuck-E-Cheese, dropped out of college, and lost my virginity at around twenty. Pathetic, I know. The thing that annoyed me was that Dylan, my YouTube famous brother, had started his career of vlogging at thirteen, back when it was popular. He gained a small following of pre-pubescent teenage girls who viewed him as a fucking God. You might not know him as just Dylan, but instead the great “Dylanlogenvlogs.” Of course, that’s a fake name. Dylan Logenburg just doesn't have the same ring to it. He did a few videos of pretty basic shit after vlogging, and the public loved it. He got Six million views on his most popular video. I think it was about how to survive high school on your first day. Like that little shit would have known anything about hardship with a popularity rate that kids would dream of.
So, a few days ago, he turned eighteen, so of course, he needed to buy a new house so he was closer to his college. Mom and Dad were already rich before he became known, but this just added to it all. It annoyed me that within a few days, he would make more than I would in a month. Me and my brother had a somewhat rocky relationship really. We had good times for sure, as all siblings did, but after the fame set in, he saw me as a less successful anti role model, so we spoke to each other less and less.
That brings us to today. I was instructed to help Dylan out with packing and moving. Thing was, I had work the next day, and with it being a Sunday, I had a whole week of joy coming up. I didn't want to help, and in all truth, I’d probably just get more pissed off. We didn't live too far from Los Angeles, but how the fuck did he get a house there? Los Angeles? Of all fucking places.
I was already angry before we even set course, and so I said that I’d be back in an hour to pick him up. I had to do an errand. Truth was, I went to get some cash so I could buy a large pizza and fall asleep watching Netflix. “Netflix and eat a pizza on my fucking own,” I called it. So, I head out in my piece of shit car and get stuck in traffic. Obviously, it takes me longer than an hour to get back home. More time wasted really. Turns out my baby bro had gone without me and caught a cab straight there. Relief was setting in, but it was crushed the moment my mom said that he had left furniture and things behind. That meant that he had taken his phone, his clothes, and his laptop. The essentials my ass. So I begrudgingly headed to the address he had left, and already knew that it would be awkward and frustrating setting up all his shit while he browsed social media like I’m his own personal slave. I got the stuff from home and went to his new place.
I pulled up and looked at the house. It’s a fucking mansion. Massive windows overlooking a bustling city with two stories of rich person architecture—gates and brick walls to make sure intruders didn’t get in. Finally, a gravelly front parking lot for his friends to park in. I looked at it for a good five minutes, and just wondered what life would be like in there. I knew I wouldn’t deserve it, but neither would his punk ass. I headed up and knocked on the front door, ready to put on some fake enthusiasm while he grunts and gazes at his phone. I waited and waited and he didn’t come. I seriously considered turning back and leaving all his shit on the front step, but I knew I’d get screamed at by my parents. I tried the door, and it wasn't locked, so I step inside and look around.
I called for him but got nothing back, so I walked farther in. Last door to the right, and that’s where I saw it. I noticed a pool of blood and a limp leg bent awkwardly. I didn’t scream, I just had wider eyes. His eyes were wider too, and he was looking at the ceiling, with the back of his head kissing the hard-wood floor. There was so much blood that it was flowing toward the hallway. I stabilized myself on the wall and tried not to topple over and crack my head as well. I wasn't fond of my brother, but this was horrible. I didn't care how much better he had done in life, he was still family, right? I looked to the counter, where he had probably been facing while he slipped on the shiny floor. He had made his mistake when he had worn socks. I looked up and saw the laptop, opened up and on his YouTube channel. He was just about to press the upload button on his new video. “In My New House!” was the title. I looked at it, and back at my brother. At that moment, I stifled a laugh. I didn’t want to, it just happened. I imagined him moving his finger along the trackpad and hovering over upload, and then doing a little dance or some shit, and slipping up and hitting the floor like an infant not able to walk. I laughed again while putting my hand to my mouth. I attempted to compose myself. I sighed out and took a step over the blood. I was going to call the cops in just a minute. I looked at his channel and imagined my name there. “RyanTylervlogs”. I always knew it sounded good, but Dylan always told me that he would do a video with me after the one he was just making. Every time he would say the same thing.
“Let me just finish my other vid, then you’ll be in my next one, man.”
It was bullshit and it never happened. He was repulsed by me and my life, and he wanted to stay as far away from me as possible. Lost in thought, I snapped and saw that I was on autopilot, and had uploaded his video. It was rendering and being sent out onto his channel. I could have stepped out, got my phone from my pocket and called the police, but I didn’t. I just watched as it went on. Thousands of likes and comments poured in on how handsome I was, and how good my video was. Well . . . Dylan’s video. I looked back down at my brother and stared at him for a while. All of his color had run out of him. Now it was a ghost with red paint leaking out. I wanted to pick him up and take him to a hospital. Now that I think about it, I’d have probably taken him to the morgue. But instead of doing any of those things, I looked back to his laptop. I saw other tabs open. Twitter, Instagram, Tumblr, Facebook, and some other shit that I’d never heard of.
I checked his Twitter and saw his last tweet. “At my new house, will make a vid soon! Luv you guys!”
I nearly threw up at that, but held it in. Next, I did something that I’m not proud of, but it wasn’t illegal. It made me feel good anyway.
I tweeted using his account. Some generic shit like, “Ahh, gotta love LA life.” The sheep ate it up. I saw a few comments and had a smirk on my face that I hadn’t had in a while. I tweeted again. “Any of you guys have a favorite movie?” I didn’t really know what to say, so I just put up something I would want to hear. My twenty-eight followers probably wouldn’t even give a fuck. But they absolutely loved this, and it was my own original message, and I was loving it too. In those moments, I completely forgot that the corpse of my brother was just beside me growing colder. It sounds fucked up, I know. I already know. So I kept tweeting and tweeting. You’ll probably see them in the next few days. Eventually, people are practically cumming over how much I was tweeting. All these fans yelling for Ryan Tyler. It was quite amazing and I was in bliss. I stayed up all night and ignored all phone calls from my parents. I even heard his phone ring a few times, but I didn’t check. So, long story short, I promised a video for my fans. I might have gotten too into the role of a youtuber. I admit, I got carried away.
I’ll make a video just before midnight and upload it for the world to see.
I think that wraps it all up guys. That brings us to now. I want to say that I’m sorry for what I did, but I had too much fun being the center of attention instead of the other guy. I’m going to stay here for a few days and upload some more. I’ll also be posting on Instagram and everything else. I’m really loving my new life. 😊
Police Report on the death of Dylan Logenburg
On the night of January, 21st, 2018, eighteen-year-old Dylan Logenburg was found dead at his house in Los Angeles, California. Police were notified of disturbing videos uploaded via Dylan Logenburg’s Youtube channel. Police investigated the young man’s newly acquired home and found Dyaln’s older brother, Ryan Logenburg hunched in a corner inside of Dylan’s bedroom. The suspect in question appeared to be under distress. He was also seen to be using Dylan’s laptop. When arrested, he did not go quietly. Without a weapon, he was handcuffed and brought back to a local Los Angeles Police Department where he is currently under questioning. Dylan Logenburg’s body was found in his bathroom. His face had been removed from ear to ear. After an autopsy was performed, evidence had been found of Dylan being alive and conscious as he was skinned. From Ryan’s above statement that was made via a Facebook post, there is no mention of Dylan being alive. However, blunt-force trauma was not the cause of death. Loss of blood was the main indicator for Dylan Logenburg’s death. The Facebook post was made at 10:30 P.M. while time of death was specified as 11:23 P.M.
The series of posts and videos were deleted after he was detained.
Upon the first interrogation, it was reported that Ryan Logenburg was under such great distress that he had to be sedated. At one point during the interview, he was given a mirror. Upon seeing his own face, and being told that his brother’s face had been removed from Ryan’s, he became unresponsive. He would also not acknowledge his birth name, but instead refer to himself as Ryan Tyler. The mother and father have not given a statement.
Twenty-three-year-old Ryan Logenburg is currently awaiting trial under suspicion of murder.