I've been holding this one in my drafts for a while, I guess because I put more into this one than I've put in for a while. I touched on a subject that needed to be touched on in a way that only I could. I hope you enjoy, because I've placed a piece of my heart into this.
This is for everyone whose been told their black lives don't hold enough weight in the world to make someone of non color care. This is for everyone African American. Your crown holds just as much weight as anyone else's. Remember that.
Welcome,
to Breathe.
Toni Braxton
Dear Diary,
I lost my soul today. I can't get it back, I've tried, I swear I have but it seems like I left it on the pavement of the road tonight. It seems like I left it in the drivers seat of that car. It seems like I left it with no one to guard it— my worse fear is that someone has already taken it. I didn't notice it was missing until it was too late. Too late to save it. Too late to save my thoughts and sanity. My heart lays on the pavement, on the seats, on the wheel, next to a huge amount of hatred. Damn diary, I lost my soul today.
2 Hours Before
"Toni, we might as well head to the arcade."
"No." I shut that down. "We might as well head back to my home so my mother won't beat me and I'll live to see another day."
Kenny looked at me as he chuckled. "Sis, when you gone get over this scared tactic shit?"
"When they stop whooping me!" I exclaimed as he started laughing harder. "And slow down before we wreck."
"I'm literally doing 75."
"In a 60, slow down. I'm not ready to die or get beat. You know Evelyn don't play that." I pointed out.
He shook his head. "Okay. Okay. You right about that. Fine."
We were headed down Highway 90, the road empty from it being so late. It was 11 pm and this small city was barely populated as is. Mostly elders roamed this place, and they were long and asleep.
Kenny and I were headed to my place coming from our friend, Janet's, house. We had our science project in the back, which was due tomorrow. We were the King and Queens of Procrastination. Our parents hated it, but we felt like it produced our best work.
I noticed a car sitting off to the side of the road and my eyes widened when I realized exactly what it was. "Kenny, slow down! The cops!"
By time Kenny went to get off the gas, we had already shot past the cop car. He looked over at me and then in the rear view. "Maybe no ones in it. Maybe it's just a scare tactic."
He jinxed himself because lights went on behind us and the cop came up on our bumper. Kenny sighed as he pulled over. My hands began shaking as my heart began beating loudly. Mommy had told me about this. How cops sometimes abuse their authority. I quickly pulled out my phone and began voice recording.
Kenny looked over at me. "Calm down. We will be fine."
I nodded softly as I tried to calm my breaths. Unfortunately when the cop used the flashlight to bang on the window, my breathing went to jackrabbiting again.
Watching as Kenneth put down the window, I gripped my phone in my hand. "Good evening officer." He greeted him softly.
He was scared. I could tell by how shaky his voice had suddenly become but my eyes stayed glued on the officers right hand which was placed on top of his gun.
"You were speeding back there boy. Doing 90 in a 60." The cop looked in on us as he spoke, flashing the light all through the car.
"Now with all due respect sir, it was no way I was doing 90. I was doing—."
The officers voice got aggressive. "You getting smart with me boy?"
Kenny shook his head. "No. No sir."
"License and registration please." He demanded.
My eyes watched Kenny's hands as he went to reach over but paused. "My registration and license is in the glove compartment. I have to reach over and get it."
The cop nodded as he shined his flashlight in my face. To say I was trembling with fear would be a understatement. He opened the glove compartment and pulled the registration out easily. His eyes widened as he spoke. "I can't find my license. It must be in the back."
Kenny turned to reach in the back and shots rang out causing me to scream. "Kenny!"
He looked at me for a moment then down at the wounds in his chest. Three. I went to hold them to try and stop the bleeding and the cop pointed his gun at me. "Freeze! Don't move!"
My hands immediately shot up as tears fell down my cheeks. A sob escaped my lips loudly as I shook my head looking at Kenny taking his last breaths. "No. Kenny. Please. Stay with me." I looked at the cop in panic. "Help him! Please. Just help him!"
The blood. God. There was so much blood.
Maybe Kenneth stared at me because he was about to see what our parents and church members call the afterlife. He was about to see Jesus. He was about to be judged. My friend was about to beat me to the gates and I couldn't do anything to help.
I looked up to see the mans face was lit up by the street post and I could visualize the shock in his face as I cried out louder. He yanked his walkie talkie and spoke harshly into it. "Officer in need of backup! Two suspects. One down. In need of an ambulance. Highway 90, post mark 12."
Suspects? My body began rocking as I looked down at Kenny and saw he wasn't moving and his eyes were closed. "Kenny wake up. Kenny! No! Ken wake up!"
He was gone. He couldn't be gone.
"Ma'am. Get out the car!"
"For what?!" I yelled out.
"Get out the damn car!" The white mans voice seemed to echo in my head as I slowly pulled the door open and got out. I was numbing. I was becoming numb.
So when the man roughly grabbed me, turned me around and put handcuffs on me— I barely felt it. Yet when he pushed me to the ground my mind caught up with reality. My eyes searched his badge. 219.
The man flashed a light in the backseat and looked at me. "Where is it?"
"Where is what?!" I asked him in anger.
"The gun! Where is the damn gun!"
"His wallet is on the backseat. His fucking wallet! You asshole!" I yelled out as he looked into the backseat. He ran a hand through his hair when he shined the light in the backseat and didn't see a gun.
He looked at me. "What is your name?"
"I don't have to tell you that!"
"Little girl! What is your name?!" He yelled louder that time as he pointed the gun my way slowly.
I sat there silent for a moment before staring into his eyes and speaking lowly. "You might as well shoot me too. It seems you're easy on your trigger."
"Let me tell you something, you tell a soul and I will find you. I will find you and your family and I will hurt you! Mark my words. I know your face and that's all that matters."
Sirens were heard and he quickly put the gun away. Opening Kenny's door, he began acting like he was concerned that my best friend was dead. I scanned around as police cars and a ambulance pulled up and around us.
People began trying to talk to me but I didn't answer them. My words were long and dried up. Even when they placed me in the backseat of the police car and read me my Miranda Rights like I was some criminal— I numbed out.
It was so unreal to me. This didn't seem real to me— the only thing that did seem factual in my head was the point that in a blink of an eye....
My friend had just become another statistic.