September 26th 1998. That was the day My mothers world shifted. Only 19 and holding her first son in her arms. Brown eyes looking up at her with wonder and distress. My mother tells me how My older brother saved her life, how she didn't know what she would’ve done if he wasn't born. The light of her life. The twinkle in her eyes. He changed her world in ways I could never imagine… Hence the name.

I see him in my dreams walking me and my sisters to school. I see him in the city streets, but I know I don’t see the him so many others saw. I don’t see E’majin (Pronounced Imagine If not already obvious) with perfectly straight cornrows and neat clothes, Pants sagged down. I don’t see a thuggish unwanted son. I see him with his knotted up Afro and shirts covered in flour, I see him jamming out to music and making me laugh whenever I needed it most. I saw a little boy who would do anything and everything for his siblings. I think I’ll always see a little boy trying to find a balance in his horribly unfortunate life. 

I wish the man who shot him saw that too. I still wonder who or what that man saw when he pulled that trigger, A ruthless thug? A lost little boy? I don’t know, but I know he didn’t see the same person I did. “You don’t hate nobody!” That’s what my Mama said whenever we used the word hate. “Hate is the strongest word of them all, that's how I know you‘ont mean it”, but I mean it when I say this. I hate the man who took my brother away. I hate that man with every piece of my soul. He tore my world to shreds and his stupid actions still affect my life to this day. I hate that man. My mother doesn’t hate him though. The only way she can find peace is if she forgives. Not me though, it’s a lot easier to hate somebody than to try and forgive them for what they did to me. And what did he do? He made a name I hold dearest to my heart a sensitive conversation. A hushed word at the dinner table. How can someone make another person just a word you hiss hesitantly through your teeth? I remember the day my parents sat us down and told us the news. I remember every detail. We went out to eat at Applebee’s of all places. 

I ordered the ribs.

Lea’Na bumped into a waiter carrying a tray of drinks trying to race to the bathroom.

I remember watching the drinks crash against the ground as bright blue liquid sprayed out and splashed everywhere. Pepsi soaking the carpet. 

I asked my mom at the dinner table “Are you ever gonna tell us why Naya stayed home from school last week?” 

“Let’s have a nice meal first” she said it with a soft smile. That's how I knew it was bad. She smiled at me instead of cracking a joke. 

We drove home, no music played in the car, there were no sounds of laughter from the mismatched group of children. The air was still of despondency.

We took off our tattered shoes, thrown lazily to the side.  

Our parents gathered us around. In the coldest room of the house, huddled us close.

I already knew what they were going to say. I felt it deep in my heart. I didn’t know how but I knew. 

“A very bad man came” My dad began to choke, red eyes welling up.

“...He took your brother away” He didn’t have to explain, I already knew.

Time Froze for a moment. 

I could feel the sting of sorrow in my chest. The burn in my throat, the tears filling my eyes as my dad explained to my younger siblings what he meant. I looked at my mom, her lip quivering. I looked at Naya in a full blown cry, she had already known too. I collapsed in on myself. Screaming as tears fell from my eyes. My dad pulled me into a hug and my fist slammed into his chest. I didn’t want the touch. I didn't want any touch. I just wanted time to stop moving and take me back to Sunday mornings playing in the dirt while he scolded me for ruining my white shirts. I wanted to be back sitting at the kitchen counter top while he and Naya made pancakes with chocolate chips perfectly littered through the batter. I wanted to walk down the block to the dollar tree buying candy with just dimes, and to look over at Kingston perfectly sitting on his older brother's shoulders. Lea’Na would be farther ahead walking fast with eagerness. Naya by her side. Raina would be yelling “Slow down! You’re leaving me behind''. I just wanted to be back for everything to be normal again. Everybody assumes that because I was young, that my brother dying doesn’t bother me still. 

But they didn’t see the nights, where I tore myself apart for not doing more to save him.  

They didn’t see the fights where I blamed my dad for how poorly he treated him. 

They don’t see the perfect scars that remain littered across my inner and outer thighs from taking it out on myself.

They didn’t see the nights, where I stayed up late and waited for my brother to walk through the door. Some days I still do, sitting and waiting for a sign he’s still here…

They aren’t there to hear my mother softly weeping through Christmas day.

They don’t hear the bitter words that escape my parents mouth through mumbles over thanksgiving dinner.

They don’t feel the absence of his presence on Halloween telling us “Hurry up before all the good houses turn off their porch lights!”.

They don’t miss his voice whispering to me where the best Easter eggs are hidden behind our parents backs.  

I still dream about it. 

I’m in the alley where everything changed, watching the event unfold before my eyes. I try to scream out. Say something! Say Anything! Please! I’m stopped by burning hot hands covering my mouth. “That’s your brother, do something” He taunts me, pressing the gun to my brother's temple. I reach out but more burning hot hands reach, and grab hold. Searing my skin like a brand to a cow. I try to scream but find no air in my lungs. 

Boom

The trigger has been pulled, and E’majin falls to the ground, dead eyes glaring through me. “Why didn’t you do anything?” He stands next to my brother, like a hunter next to it’s prize. “You could’ve saved him.”

“Please.”

E’majin is the name soothing the burn in my throat when I speak it.

“Please.”

 I question how he could save my mother, but he can’t save me too, that’s selfish and I don’t care. I beg for him to come back and take these burdensome weights off my back. 

“Please!”

I need my brother back home. I’m just a little kid yearning to be home again.

“PLEASE?”
I scream out for the world to bring me back to my home. I wait patiently as hot tears stream down my face.

“Please? Please!” 

I beg out but I don’t know what for, hot tears bleeding through my shirt. 

E’majin was my brother. E’majin still is my brother. He’s just gone now. 

Nobody could ever Imagine the pain in my heart, because My E’majin is dead. My E’majin is gone.

My E’majin’s justice was never served. Not until He got the chance to ruin another's family. E’lijah that was his name, another little boy shot and killed by just another little boy, and a system that couldn’t care less about the blood of young boys spread throughout the streets.