"Don't believe everything you think. Thoughts are just that — thoughts." - Alan Lokos
I was awaken by the wreaking in my brain. Sweat seeped through my pores profusely, my breathing picked up, and my stomach began to cramp. I've become afraid to sleep because of the dreams that occur every time I close my eyes. The first night I was alone in this house Jelani visited me in my dream and told me everything would be okay because he was protecting us from above. I wasn't suppose to have any worries, but my brain keeps creating scenarios where I've not only loss Jelani but the other people I love as well.
Tonight there was an scene going through my head repeatedly that consisted of Nyako being tortured by someone unrecognizable. I'm scared to sleep because I can't sustain a healthy mind as long as these images are replaying every night. My eyes have begun to permanently sting with the weight of the world on them and not because I've been crying. It's ultimately because I haven't slept since I've gotten home — two weeks ago. I can't tell anyone about them because there's too much going on right now and my problems will only make that worse.
The investigation of Jelani's murder is set to launch today and I can't even coherently think let alone withstand living through this pain everyday for God knows how long. Quite frankly I haven't even fully come to terms with his death or the fact that I'll be raising two children alone, but I know if the roles were reversed he'd be strong for our family and make sure that my memory lived on.
Though our love was the strongest part of our relationship me and Jelani shared businesses with one another. We were partners in every element of the word, so I had no real time to mourn because business goes on and no matter how broken I am there's shit to be done. Hassan taught me a lot of things: how to love, who to love, what to value, and how to invest in myself. Lately I haven't been investing in myself because I have to tackle the things that kept me and our community afloat. Today I told myself I'd write Jelani a letter and take it to his burial sight, but I'm drained. As I began to lay back down so I could try sleeping again I got a knock on my bed room door from who I presumed to be Nyako.
"Come in" I said lowly and pushed myself up to make myself attentive to her needs.
"Mai, I made us some food and planned a nice day for you to relax and take some stress off the babies. I know the Detective is coming over today at two so I've planned things for you to do until he gets here." I looked at her and cracked a weak smile to let her know I appreciated her efforts but her response let me know that she didn't feel that vibe from me,
"I mean it's okay if you don't want to I just thought you'd want to get out of this room... I'm sorry to be a bother." Nyako said before putting her head down before quickly walking out the room and shutting the door.
I hurriedly got up washed my face and jumped into the shower so I could prepare myself for whatever she had planned. Nyako has legally been under my care since I was eighteen and she was five, and to make a long story short we were both in the system because our mother died during the birth of Nyako and our father was an abusive alcoholic who cares more about getting his fix than he did his own children. I stayed in a group home until I was eighteen because no one actually wants pre-teen black girls; no one not even my own father, and since Ako was never adopted, which is something I thank God for everyday, I got to adopt her because at that time I had moved into my own apartment which was in a low income area but it was as an apartment none the less. I also had a job as a barista at Starbucks to ensure that we were both fed and clothed. Life wasn't always "easy" for us. There were nights were I wouldn't eat because she had to, but that all changed once my best friend at the time, Jelani Hassan Adebayo, asked me to help him orchestrate a plan to rebuild our community.
