Black Sunday by Jamal Greene

Black Sunday by Jamal Greene

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Sun, Jan 15, 2017
Black Sunday is about Jamal Heart second in command of the powerful crime organization and has been frame for a crime he didn't commit this time and his sister Aisha Heart quest to free him from prison with the help of some of Lord Jamal loyal associates . There is a traitor in the organization and hidden secret ! It was late, and the night had been long from the time they opened the equipment store. Jamal had come by to take inventory of the store's products, to see what he needed to order. More phones, Headsets and chargers, for the phone. Jamal felt uneasy tonight, but he just said he was tired, and he kept on taking inventory for the store.His mind drifted to Mr. Big, his boss and head of the Black Sunday Organization and how far they have come over the years, and their connections. When suddenly the police came busting inside his store. "Get your hand up! Don't nobody move!" Jamal felted secure because he knew he didn't keep none of Black Sunday's work inside his stores, his legitimate stores, Detective Brown and his partner pushed Jamal up against the wall and searched him. What's going on officers?" What is the problem here?" They kept silent. Then said, We understand you're selling drugs out of this store, and we have a search warrant," and present it to him. Jamal said, There are no drugs in this store, and I don't know who told you different." As they looked around the store, they found nothing in front of the store . Officer Brown appeared with a box filled with Kilos of drugs." "We found it!" Jamal was in a state of shock and disbelief because he knew someone had to have planned the drugs in his store. You're under arrest for the sale and distribution of narcotics. We know you work for Mr. Jimmy Black, the notorious drug king pin... I don't know what you're talking about. Just take me to a cell and call my lawyers." Months had passed, and he was still awaiting the decision of the jury....
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The door opens and closes thirty times in five minutes, the table clutters endlessly. What's happening? Why am I being held by two officers in the corner of a counseling clinic? Is this an interrogation ground now? Shadows race past me, like mirages in a desert, faces flicker into view only to vanish the next second. The officers speak, but I can't hear them. My senses are failing me. Something inside me is taking control, and I might faint. If I wake up in a hospital, will this still be a nightmare, or something scripted? The city woke to devastation. The news spread like wildfire-Dr. Nadia, a champion for human rights, had been murdered in this very clinic. Yesterday, she voiced her fear for her life; no one listened. Now, she's gone. The press churned out articles minute by minute, TV channels broadcast live updates, and the internet roared with outrage. Police teams haven't slept. Top agents were deployed. That's how I met Inspectors Carla and Javed-while being held as both the prime suspect and the sole witness to this chaos. Dr. Nadia wasn't just a leader; she was a symbol of hope. She fought tirelessly for the oppressed, for justice, for rights the government ignored. Yet, she seemed to know her time was near. A week ago, she hinted at it but continued her fight. Yesterday, she paid the price-her life. Now, the city mourns her loss, consumed by guilt for ignoring her cries for help. The last time I saw Nadia, she was here, in this clinic. She didn't want to live. She seemed tired, desperate for respite. How does someone so adept at convincing others to hold on end up wanting to let go? Her death feels like a betrayal. She trusted us, and we failed her. I failed her. Now, it's on me to prove this was no accident-a cold-blooded murder. Or was it?

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