Blood is thicker than water- a phrase many have heard and implemented in their everyday lives. For the Knighton brothers, it was more than just a phrase. For them it was a motto, their creed. It meant that nobody, friend or love interest, was above...
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Forgive me father, for I have sinned. I repeated the statement in my head over and over again as Pastor Andrews prayed over Meech's casket. Whatever words he was saying in his prayer, I didn't wanna hear them— I wasn't worthy of hearing them. I'd ordered so many killings and orchestrated hundreds of robberies, both of which often times left innocent people dead. I had men, women and children's blood on my hands and I knew that whenever it was my time to go, I was surely going to hell. I'd accepted that a long time ago, but I didn't need to be reminded of my indiscretions by this preacher begging for deliverance from all evil. Evil was all around though. Evil was standing behind the crowd chanting in his head so he wouldn't have to hear a simple prayer, Evil was standing right next to me— looking at his watch every three seconds because he was uncomfortable being at the cemetery, knowing he was the reason Meech was there and a new Evil was currently being born in the young man who watched as they lowered his older brother into the ground.
Ozzie hadn't said much in the week leading up to Meech's funeral, he hadn't said much today either. He sat in the church with the same blank expression he had on his face now as they began to shovel dirt into the open ground. After finding out about Meech, he came straight to our house and sat in our living room for hours. I only saw a single tear escape from his eye, but he didn't even let it fall— he wiped it with the back of his hand and just stared off distantly after that.
I couldn't understand why he wanted to have the funeral on a Monday, but I made it happen. Kydric and I were sure to pay for everything so that Meech could be laid to rest comfortably— it was the least we could do.
As everyone started to walk off toward their cars, I went over to Oz as he stood over his brother's grave. I didn't say anything. I gave him a light pat on the back— just to let him know I was there. He looked at me and offered a small head nod before turning his focus back to the grave.
"I keep looking down there like he might rise up from the dirt or something, man." He said after a few minutes. "Guess shit like that only happens in the Bible, huh?" He began walking off toward the limo that we all rode in.
Meech and Oz didn't have a lot of family. In fact, we were the only ones who sat in the family section, as requested by Ozzie. Their parents had been drug addicts and Meech left when he was just sixteen. He worked for my father for two years before adopting his younger brother, who was five years old at the time— same age as KD. We all were pretty close coming up. Meech and I really bonded over fatherhood, since technically it was me who was taking care of Reem. Their parents overdosed two days after one another just a year later and according to them, they didn't have any other family members, none that they knew of at least.
It had always been Demetrius and Shyoz, but all that was over with now. I wanted to feel guilty but my head wouldn't let me. If I felt guilty about this one then I'd have to feel guilty about all the other murders I'd ordered over the years— hundreds of them. That shit would pile up and although I was strong physically and mentally, I don't think any man could live with so much guilt.
