The Nanny 2: Healing [ON HOLD]

Grief [P1]

Miss Me?

-----------------------------------

Janet's POV

"There's new body camera footage we have, not from the Minneapolis Police Department but the Minneapolis Police District. It gives us another angle of what we saw happening. The escalation from that initial surveillance video of Mr. Floyd getting out of the car and-"

*click*

"For Breonna Taylor's family, the entire tragic story boils down to one question: Why were police breaking down her door in the middle of the night?"

*click*

"'I'm just different.' That's what 23-year-old Elijah McClain told police in Aurora, Colo., after they stopped him as he walked home from a convenience store last August because someone saw the young black man and reported a suspicious person. Those would be some of McClain's last words. On body-cam footage, he could be heard pleading and sobbing in police custody: 'Oh, I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to do that. I just can't breathe correctly.' He also told officers that he loved them."

*click*

"When will it end?" Grace questioned as I finally turned the television off. I remained silent, knowing that I didn't have the answer to her question. "Did you hear me, bumblebee?"

Our eyes met; mine full of worry and hers the same. I let out a soft sigh before pecking her forehead, "I wish I could answer that, baby. As much as I want to be optimistic, I don't see an end to this in sight..."

She nodded, knowing that I was right. Her head laid against my breasts. Now it was just me, her, and the silence. I could feel the tension in the air. The worries. The doubts. The uncertainties. The sadness and the anger. It was all present, but most of it radiated off of Grace.

If I didn't speak, I knew she wouldn't.

"Sometimes... I wonder how mothers go through it." Her attention was back on me. I could only tell by the way her body shifted. The dark room didn't allow me much imagery towards the work of art mounted against my body. "You make love and from that you bear a child. A piece of you that God gifted to the world. And then the world kills him or her because of the color of their skin. The color it received from you. Your melanin and your ancestors' melanin. And now it's up to you to make your child casket pretty."

"I'm scared that they won't make it, J..." The cracks in her voice resonated amongst the room as she spoke of our children. My chest was damp. She had to be crying. I gently rubbed her back, laying endless kisses across her face.

"Shh... They will make it. No matter what happens, they will make it."

But let's be honest, would they? In a world where you're automatically treated different because of the color God painted you, isn't a fair world. We're not allowed to be upset. We're not allowed to react. We're not allowed to experience that same entitlement. We're not allowed to be happy. We're not allowed to barbeque at parks. We're not allowed to take a leisurely jog. We're not allowed to claim our culture. And we were never allowed to be black. But we sure as hell are allowed to die.

Any place, Any time, Any circumstance.

So, this is how our night ended.

Me, holding the love of my life, as she cried for our children's sake.

*

Grace's POV

"Bye, baby. I love you." Janet stated before laying a sweet kiss against the middle of my forehead. I remained silent, trying my best to avoid eye contact. "Hey..." She cooed while her delicate fingers pressed under my chin, gently lifting my head up, "What's wrong?"