"But I don't get it." Leala put her hair into a ponytail. "How could a male African American teenager with no weapons be a threat to a police officer who's armed?"
----
Harmony's older brother was found dead, and the cop who killed him wasn't charge...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
⚜
I was awakened by loud voices outside of my window and a couple of clicking sounds from cameras. I instantly opened the grey curtains to see if there was a murder or something last night. When I opened it, I was pulled down by someone.
"Those are reporters," my dad whispered.
"No shit." I rolled my eyes.
"I called the number on that card you gave me a couple of days ago; we've made arrangements, and now journalists and shit know we're trying to retaliate against the police department—more specifically, Officer Roland."
"Does Mom know?" I slid open a small door that revealed my closet.
"Not necessarily." He scratched his neck. "I figured she'd shoot the whole idea down. Oh, and hurry getting ready; the limo for us to ride into the burial site will be here soon."
Burial site.
I'd forgotten all about Khalil's funeral until now. Okay, maybe I just stuffed it into the back of my brain so I could forget it was happening. Everything came rushing onto me at once—sorrow, pain, and anger.
"Wait," I grabbed his wrist to stop him from walking, "how did we manage to pay for a limo?"
Dad sighed, his back still to me. "I started selling weed again."
"Dad—"
"I know; it's bad." He turned around. "Your mom tells me every chance she gets; I understand. I just want to be able to provide for my family. Without a degree or certificate, I can't get a job anywhere that will pay enough. I've failed you, all of you." Tears gathered in his eyes before he walked back into their room.
That right there was why I was going to graduate. I wanted to be the first one in my family to do so. Then, all my little cousins will know that they could do it too if they put their minds to it.
I twirled in the small mirror that hung in the bathroom, staring at my black dress flaring out.
"You look stunning." Mom stood behind me with a smile. She wore a simple black dress that stopped at her knees that had laced fabric on the bottom. She had a black flower pinned in her brown afro and neutral makeup applied on her face.
"You look even better." I grinned back. "Nice dress."
Mom began braiding my long, black hair. "The only one I had in the closet."
I gasped. "You sold the other ones?"
"Mhm." She sighed. "Bills are not something you wanna skip every month." I felt her thin hands skim my back as the braid got longer.
From the mirror, I saw Dad walk in wearing a navy blue shirt and khaki pants. "Dad, that's blue, not black."
"Close enough," he mumbled, pulling out his tucked-in shirt.
I didn't press any further. I knew we had limited clothes, but he could've at least tried to get something black to wear.
⚜
I avoided the sympathetic eyes of the big crowd of people that stared as we got out of the white limousine. I tried to focus on the other tombstones with other people's names on them. I dreaded the thought of my brother being next.
As I slowly walked forward, someone's arm looped in mine. I looked over and it was Leala. She gave me a reassuring nod—telling me I could do this. I can handle what was about to happen.
Don't cry.
I stood numbly as people got up to the podium to talk about my brother and how he impacted their lives. There were lots of, 'he died too soon,' and 'we'll see him in Heaven,' and, 'he's smiling down at us right now.'
I forced myself to try and believe the words they were saying. Khalil had a good relationship with God and he attended Beverly High and got all A's and B's. Many people thought of him to be a role model.
But for some reason, I constantly question if Khalil did something to make the policemen shoot him. Maybe he was carrying some of Dad's weed or that pistol I noticed that he carried in his jogger's pocket whenever he walked alone at night.
"We will go to court tomorrow," Dad announced at the podium. Lots of cheers followed after. "We need everyone's prayers and support; some donations wouldn't hurt either." The crowd erupted in laughter. Maybe Dad should try being a comedian. "Thank you all for coming out and giving your condolences. We appreciate those very much."
I took my attention off of him and towards the machine that was lowering my brother to the ground. I bit my lip to stop the tears from falling, but I failed miserably. Leala noticed that I was shaking from crying and pulled me into her hold. It reminded me of how David held me.
Wait, where was David? I haven't seen him or talked to him all day. Was that weird?
I put no more thought into that while focusing on getting back into the limo as quickly as I could.
