On March, 3rd 2016 you were driving down the street late at night excitement running through your veins ready to hang out with a friend and eat some pizza. First you made a call home told your mom you were going out to hang out with a friend, she told you to be safe and that she would see you tomorrow. But you never made it to your friends and you never made it to the next day or the day after, you were gone, at first they called it a stray bullet saying that you were at the wrong place at the wrong time. But still no answer the cops couldn't tell us what happen all they would say was that you ask a police officer for help and no more.
On March 4, 2016, there were articles talking about how you died, about how you were killed, mostly being shared over and over Facebook, covered by you. People telling the world how you were so amazing, how you impacted so many lives, how your positive energy and your vibes just made everyone around forget all the bad and see all the good. March 13th and 14th your funeral, memorial and burial. Everyone went, everyone was there, but I couldn't be. Your mother now continues to share you memory, and everyday people thank you for being the most amazing person they ever met.
But what no one wants to post about is how terrible it is that another young man lost his life because of the gun violence that plagues the streets of Chicago. About how young men and woman lose their lives everyday not knowing, about how one minute they were going on about their days and the next someone took their lives without a second thought. They were killed, their lives ended short. Leaving family members and friends mourning, leaving them with no answer, asking themselves why? Why they had to leave to soon? Why they were taken when they were young? Why you? This year alone 330 people have lost their lives to gun violence.
Some people would argue that a gun didn't kill these people, that a person filled with hate and no sympathy did. That a gun didn't end their lives that someone who had no morals and saw nothing wrong with what they were doing. They would argue that the person who shot them is a evil, crazy, or not mentally stable. Some would say that guns don't kill people, that people kill people.
But who is going to make your mom understand this, why should she have to understand this? Why should she have to hear that people say "I am sorry for your loss" Why does she have to sit and try to understand how the person that killed you could not be found? Why does she have to live the rest of her life knowing she won't see you again? Why does she have to bury her son and try and live a life that is different? Why does she have to read that guns don't kill people that other people do? But most importantly why does she have to continue to live the rest of her life knowing she will never get to say goodbye again?
On March 4 I lost a friend of mine. I hadn't seen him in a while, but the pain was all the same, the anger was all the same, the feelings of denial were still the same. I woke on March 4 to an article that said that a man had been shot and all I could think when I saw your name was that this can't be. Most of the people I knew wanted it to be a dream, most of the people I knew where in shock, so many wanting to wake up from a nightmare, so many wishing they could wake up and still get his texts, messages, and happiness. But we didn't wake up and the nightmare was not a dream. One thing was for sure though that if the person that you had been shot by that night had not had a gun things might have been different.
