My brother and cousin would always go shopping if new clothing or shows came out. They’d wouldn’t just get it for themselves; they’d buy something for the whole family. Until one day, my mom and I were in the car. I can say it was about 73°F, and I was feeling happy because my mom took me to see my friend. We were waiting for my friend to open the gate. Before my friend opened the gate, my uncle got a call, saying my cousin died by the police.
When I heard that, my heart dropped like an egg, and when I looked over at my mom, I saw rainy tears falling down from eyes. When my friend opened the gate, we got in the house ASAP. My mom pulled out her phone like a flash, and told my family about the heart-dropping news.
Then, I was feeling gloomy with my head down, and really stressed, and my mom said, “He’s in a better place.”
I said, “Okay.”
The next week, my whole family went to the funeral and had a sad time there, because my cousin had died. What I learned is that cops can’t always be nice to Black people.
Another week later, my mom and I were watching the news, and saw my cousin, and we both said, “Wow!”