H&M

Chapter 12

"Cops give a damn about a negro? Pull the trigger, kill a n**ga, he's a hero."

Maya • • •

Micah's trial had begun a few hours before, I tried to keep busy. I couldn't physically be in the courtroom, but I got almost constant updates from both Danielle: Micah's girlfriend, and our Attorney.

The judge found it necessary to keep the officer's identity from everyone not directly involved with the case, even from me. He claimed this was to "protect him and his family"; I found this quite ironic because Micah's full name had been plastered across every major news outlet only days following his death.

I couldn't stand to think of Micah's killer walking free. Don't get me wrong, Micah was no saint; He had a long rap sheet that I was sure would be used against him all throughout the trial, but he was more than the petty crimes listed on a piece of official paper. His very existence had been reduced to his criminal record and date of birth, nothing else mattered.

I wished I could remind them that Micah had a beating heart, flesh and bones; I wished they'd stop dehumanizing him. But these were just wishes; I never believed in wishes.

I sat at my desk and took a deep breath. The pen moved across the page slowly at first, but gradually the words spilled out of me.

My name is Maya Grace Arlington, younger sister of Micah Arlington. I'd like to address the court today, primarily the defendant. I'm quite sad I can't make it to any of the hearings of Micah's trial, but I'd like to show support for my older brother. Recently, it feels like yesterday, I got an abrupt knock on the front door of my home. It was nearly 3am, the perfect time for bad news, yet I wasn't expecting any. I opened the door and saw a broad shouldered police officer standing on the opposing side of the door fame, I still wasn't expecting bad news. He directly asked if Micah had lived there, by full name... I still wasn't expecting bad news. When he told me Micah had been killed, I was obviously devastated. He was the only family I had left. When he told me Micah was killed by an officer, I was angry. It was very sad irony; Someone hired to protect Micah, our whole community in fact, had killed him instead. Those who are expected to be brave only cower behind their firearms. I'm not writing this to make a political statement, I refuse to make Micah's death into a political statement. But officer, why did you kill him? Deep in your heart, can you really say you feared for your life? Can you really justify his death with the whole truth? Were you threatened by his actions or his appearance, officer? There is quite a difference between the two. If Micah attacked you, as you have claimed, where are your bruises? Where is your proof? Why was Micah shot from behind as if he tried to run away? These are the questions I ask myself, but cannot afford to dwell on for too long; The questions pool at my feet every night. At least once a week I dream of him crying out for me: bleeding, crawling, screaming, and crying. Does his lifeless body haunt you or are you proud of your actions? Do you believe you have done a good deed? Was Micah really just a violent menace to you? If you can look yourself in the mirror, without blinking, and tell yourself that Micah Arlington endangered your life that night, I apologize for wasting your time. If not, shame on you and everyone that supports you, shame on the police officers before you that have set this sick precedent and shame on the American government for making you all think that it'll all be swept under the rug.

- Maya G. Arlington

I glanced at my phone; 10:31pm. I sat at my desk for several minutes, staring at the wall in front on me. I fought the tears that threatened to spill from my eyes. I wanted to run until my heart gave up, I wanted to feel physical pain greater than the emotional pain that ate at my heart.

I had never felt hate so strongly for anyone as I had felt it for this faceless police officer.

"Give the crack to the kids, who the hell cares? One less hungry mouth on the welfare." - 2pac (Changes)