And if we don't we'll have a race of babies
That will hate the ladies, that make the babies
And since a man can't make one
He has no right to tell a woman when and where to create one
So will the real men get up
I know you're fed up ladies, but keep...
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"PUT YOUR FUCKING hands up, before I blow your black ass head off!" A then 7-year-old Anissa Karter sobbed as she held her arms up as high as they could go. Officer Flores and several officers surrounded the three Karter siblings. "You ain't gotta yell at her like that! She's just a kid! She's just a kid. Niss, don't move keep your hands up baby. Keep looking at us." The 7-year-old nodded her head choking out a response. "Okay!" Anissa held her head up as an officer pushed her on the ground and straddled her back despite her screaming, trying to keep her focus on her brothers.
The boys were smart enough to know not to move, but Anissa however hadn't reached 10 yet so her parents didn't feel like it was necessary to have that conversation seeing as she was barely even a third grader.
The Karter kids were coming from a birthday party. Their father, Shahidi was in the studio trying to put out his album, and their mother, Gentry was in Vegas for a girls trip. Kane was driving, with Enzo in the back seat due to Anissa refusing to let him go. The girl was tired and it was way past her 8 pm bedtime and she was irritable, hungry and tired, so when they got into the car she immediately knocked out with her hands holding onto her brothers arm.
"Hey! Hey! Get off her let her go!" "Let then go!" "Get off of them!" Bystanders recorded up close as the officer struggled to handcuff the little girl. "Okay! We're cooperating, just get off of her, she's got asthma!" Enzo screamed as he and Kane were pulled up forcibly. Anissa sobbed into the pavement before she was eventually yanked up by the cuffs and forced onto her butt. "Don't move!" The officer barked.
Kane was thrown next to Anissa before eventually, Enzo was too. "I've got the three suspects in custody. Stolen car is my guess. And by the looks of it stolen watches and earrings." Anissa sobbed harder as her nose began bleeding. "Baby please calm down." Enzo whispered to her as he maneuvered his shoulder to wipe the leakage. Anissa began to calm down as he made jokes with her to keep her calm.
"Gun!" Four shots rang off and the screams of 7-year-old, Anissa rang through all of Crenshaw.
Anissa Karter watched Kane and Enzo die that night. And she hadn't been the same since.
This right here? This is why we scream FUCK THA POLICE
☆☆☆
ANISSA KARTER WALKED DOWN THE STEPS OF HER fathers private plane, with their security guiding the family of three to their car. Gentry held her daughter close to her body as soon as she got within arms length and not letting go.
Gentry had been extremely clingy and close with Anissa since her brothers were killed. The two were damn near inseparable, except when Anissa was at school or practice, or in one of her rebelling mood, or under her father, which she's been doing since she he was released.
Anissa hadn't realized how far she had spaced out, because the next thing she knew they were pulling up to their house in Beverly Hills. The family had gone to Paris for the end of their summer. Shahidi took time away from smoking weed and making music, to actually spend some earned quality time with his daughter and his wife.
Losing his first two kids, had killed him a little bit. That night was one of the worst for him. He got the call from some of the bloods who were trying to interfere, but by the time he had gotten there his eldest two were being taken in body bags, and his youngest was being held by Flip, covered in blood, and was hyperventilating.
Shahidi wasn't broke seeing as he was considered one of the greatest rappers of all time in the ninety's, and even still to this day. He thought it was important for his kids to grow up where he did so that they could grasp an understanding. He had already had a house in Beverly Hill's that was just waiting on them to move in, he just refused to raise sheltered and spoiled kids.
The move began a week before the shooting occurred, so the family was switching between Crenshaw and Beverly, although they had already been attending school in Beverly by then.
Anissa walked into the house, and as soon as the door opened, immediately taking her suitcase upstairs to shower. Of course she stopped along the way after making it to the 2nd story of the house, turning to the doors on the left instead of right, to take a very important trip before going into her room. It was a ritual so being away for 6 weeks was hell for her.
Anissa sat on the bench outside the door in the hallway before she gently pulled her shoes off her feet. Now in socks the girl opened the door grabbing one of the room slippers and sliding them on. The girl smiled as she saw the two urns, on their proper stands. A warming sensation filling her heart as she saw the room lit up at her presence.
As soon as you walked into the room, to the right was a wall with a built in slippers rack. On the rack was various slippers and booties for guest who decided to step in there. Straight in front of the door were two gold and white stands, with obviously transparent gorilla glass encasings over them, protecting the steel ash filled urns within them.
On the left stand, a gold plated name plate read, ENZO SILAS KARTER BORN- APRIL 30th 1987 PASSED- JULY 19th 2011 Brother/ Son/ Friend/ Leader
And then on the right stand, it read practically the same thing except for Kane,
KANE PARISH KARTER BORN- OCTOBER 19th 1992 PASSED- JULY 19th 2011 Brother/ Son/ Friend/ Writer
Anissa spent about a good two hours holding the last sibling portrait they took together as she talked to them. As hopeless as it was she begged the Gods above for at least the smallest sign, and although she hadn't known both of her brothers sat in front of her with big smiles on their face.
