On May 15, 2018, I felt breathless. My brother — my only father figure, my protector — was taken by gun violence. He was outside our front porch when three men in all black came up with a gun out and asked him “if he banged.” My brother stated, “No, I have my little brothers and sisters in the house,” and they shot him in his right cheek. Just like that, my brother was gone. He was a brother of 11. Only 23 at the time, he was the oldest.
I miss him dearly; he leaves behind many remarkable memories. He taught me to be strong and humble. He is my angel and will always be remembered as a strong, helpful and kind person. He was also very thoughtful and loved music and dancing. I love you my brother, forever and always, like you’ve always said.