āSir please exit the vehicle,ā he said. His flash light is pointed directly in the face forcing me to squint a little, aside from his light itās pitch black out here. Not a lot of street lights in this neighborhood. Especially not on these back roads mainly a bunch of grass and trees, I canāt stand living in such a country area. I canāt believe thereās even a cop out here this late itās almost 1 in the morning. I usually donāt take this way home but, it was quickest route according to my GPS and I was about to miss curfew, well Iām definitely going to miss it now. I canāt believe this is happening to me. Here I am, full scholarship to Yale University and Iām about to be arrested for a damn DUI. Two blocks from my house at that! My momās going to be so pissed when she finds out. āI said get the hell out the car!ā the police officer yells while forcefully throwing me on the ground. Suddenly Iām drawn away from the thoughts of my mother and father killing me and Iām faced with my current predicament and realize who I am and the situation Iām currently in. I am an 18 yr. old black male standing 6'5, 235lbs. To him I am a threat. This middle age white police officer looks to be about 5'7, weighing maybe a buck seventy-five, if that. Without that gun in his hand heād never approach me. Looking at him now I see the fear in his eyes. Fact still remains heās the man holding the gun and the last thing I want to be is another Freddie Gray, Sandra Bland, Terence Crutcher, Philando Castile, or whomever the Black Lives Matter movement gets to hash tag tomorrow. I start to speak, choosing my words as wisely as i possibly could. āMy apologies officer, I was a little in shock at first. My license and registration are both in the glove compartment, itās locked but, I can grab them for you,ā As i start to picked myself off the ground to get my information thatās when i heard it, Iāve heard it all my life growing up where I did but never could I imagine being on the receiving end. Pop! Pop! Pop! I fall back towards the same spot where he first tossed me to. I always thought your body would feel hot, I mean itās a bullet after all. Wrong again, Iām freezing! Aside from that I feel nothing, numb. Although my vision is blurring Iām still clear of what Iām seeing. He not down next to me applying pressure to the three hole he just put in my body, no that would be too humane. Like Iām some criminal he still has his gun pointed directly at me. Then I hear him screaming into his radio, frantic and stuttering āThis is Officer Taylor, we got a 444 on Fisher and DuPont, requesting backup and a medic immediatelyā. As i slip in and out of consciousness I can pinpoint a faint sound, i try to listen as close and possible. Is he crying? What the hell is he crying for? Iām the one laying here blood pouring from the multiple holes heās put in my body. All the life Iāve heard my mother say āYour body is your templeā it was her reasoning for not allowing me to get tattoos or crazy piercings. āYou were made in the image of God and this body is not yours, you are merely using it to worship him and you donāt disrespect whatās not yours. I raised you better than thatā Well Iād like to know who the hell raised him! He didnāt respect my temple at all! He didnāt see that I am a reflection of God. Yet, he stands here crying! He gets to go home to his family and the end of this but, will I? Itās 1am and Iām lying on this hard cement, drowning in a pool of my own blood and it steadily leaks from my body. My life snatched from me before I was able to fully live it. Iām the one who should be crying! Iām the one who is going to die here! Iām the oneā¦. Thank you all for reading, please take a moment to follow my blog site. This novel is very near to my heart and I will be dropping snippets of it every week. It's meant to draw attention to the systematic oppression we face. Together we can make a difference. Much love, Tš
