BY MARIAH LOVE

Spending the night at my friend’s house, staying up all night feeling the tiredness seep through my body, waking up in the morning with hunger pains in my stomach, fixing eggs, bacon, and toast, cheesy eggs, crunchy bacon, jelly just sliding through your fingers, not feeling that anything was wrong when my mom called and told me they were outside. Hopping in the car on my way to pick-up my little brother from his friend’s house, nothing seeming wrong, even through my parents weren’t talking. Me and my little brother in the car talking about what we are going to be doing, since it’s the 4th of July, feeling the water on our skin from the pool already, not thinking anything was wrong when my mom told us to sit down because she had something to tell us, still not feeling anything was wrong, just thinking that my little idiotic cousin had did something in juvenile. Wasn’t ready for the words that came into my ears, Dawan’s dead, feeling the sticky hot tears running down my face, tasting saltiness and feeling these words run out my mouth, “Mom, stop playing. That’s not a funny joke.” Seeing her collapse on the chair and burst into tears, then the feeling of dread and sorrow washing over me, asking God why!!! and not feeling anything the rest of the day. Just tasting the saltiness of the tears, hot and warm at the same time, hearing I can’t believe its, seeing the tears, not feeling the hugs on my back, sitting in the basement of my aunt’s house. Talking to my cousins, hearing them say, We always losing someone in the family, not even listening, just thinking about all the good times I had with my brother. It’s still not sinking in, sitting on the curb later on that night, looking at the fireworks, burned into my memory, feeling the warm and hot tears again, the saltiness even saltier because I have no appetite, stomach hurting so bad, haven’t eaten all day but not caring, waking up the next morning, Daddy in the kitchen cooking breakfast, smelling the sausages, the toast and eggs, still not eating, feeling like holes are inside my stomach, putting on my clothes, mom telling us we couldn’t go with her to the morgue, me and my brother arguing with her and begging her to let us go, riding in the car on the way there, my stomach, going up and down like an elevator, tying itself in knots, getting to the place scared, feeling the fear surge through me, waiting for a long time, palms sweating, the hair on the back of my neck rising, sitting in the room waiting for the closed circuit T.V. to come on, the feeling of hurt and not understanding why his face was smashed in, why his teeth were spaced out and overlapping. Screaming out in anger, the tears flowing again, angry at God for taking him, angry at myself for not telling him that I loved him all the time, just feeling bad, bad, bad all through the day sitting on my aunties’ porch. My butt tingling from sitting there so long, thinking about life and why we have to die, just sitting and thinking and sitting and thinking, not even hearing my mom tell me that we were leaving, going home, sitting on the couch in the dark, hearing my mom tell me, telephone, saying, “Hello” hearing my boyfriends voice tell me he’s coming over, feeling some calm for about 3 seconds then the anguish return, opening the door for him, not really feeling it in my hand, telling him to hold me, letting him hold me, he loved me, feeling the tears again hot and warm, hearing the phone ring again, hearing my boyfriends’ parents ask me if we want to go to the beach, asking my mom, hearing her say No, you need to be with the family, hearing my dad say that she needs some time alone. Arriving at the beach, running and splashing into the water, hearing my boyfriend say You look so good, makes me feel a little better, sitting on the beach writing R.I.P. Dawan in the sand, looking up into the sky. Finally it sinks in that’s he’s really gone, no tears coming out, just a smile and happiness that he’s finally home, finally in a better place.