Today I thought about death. As a child I feared death, but as I matured, death didn’t seem so bad. Death became my friend. As you know, there are a million ways to die, but one particular cause of death clinched to my mind. Murder!! I asked myself, “what would be the worst way for me to be killed?” I immediately thought to myself, “To be murdered by the hands of my own brother”. My own brother, meaning any man who looks just like me. What would hurt worst wouldn’t be the bullet of hate that pierced the heart where my love for my fellow brother abides; Neither the multiple stab wounds ejecting the blood of my ancestors. Each plunge into my colored flesh is deeper than the last. His cold fist continuously strikes my face which was the same color as my brother’s a few minutes ago. In each blow I feel his pain. I feel his hate. I feel his fear, but I am the one dying! He has not only killed me, but he has also killed my ancestors. He killed my past. He killed my future. He killed us! My spirit looks over my lifeless body for only a second. I am dead! I cease to exist, but my brother lives. I look to my brother, his t-shirt stained with my blood, sweat sliding down his chocolate colored face, his large nostrils expanding, sucking in the stench of my carcass . He’s trembling with fear of the unknown. What now? I walk over to him and say, “Brother! You killed us!” But he cannot hear me, no matter how loud I scream. I kept telling myself, “I am dead. I am only a spirit”, but part of me felt like I was being ignored. “Brother, can you hear me? You killed us!” As he walks away from the case that once contained my spirit, he forgets that I even existed. “Fuck that Nigga”, he says to himself. I tried my best to grab him by the shoulder, but I’m only a spirit. We no longer share the same world. Everyday I try to speak to my brother, but he wont listen. “You killed us! You are my brother and I love you. You took my life, but I still love you. You didn’t know! You didn’t know that we suffer from a long history of violence. Black violence! They killed people like us! Now they have allowed us to kill each other so the blood will no longer be on their hands. They chained people like us! When those chains were removed, they neglected the cold, heavy chain that enslaves our minds. You killed us, but you didn’t know!” You killed another brother. You killed us! Another child is fatherless. You killed us! Another sister is now a single black female raising a son by herself, you killed us! My death has angered my loved ones. They want to retaliate. You killed us! You have made the cage designed for us, even more crowded. You killed us! You have been labeled unfit to live as a “normal” citizen. You killed us! You have succeeded in proving to them that we are animals and blood thirsty savages. You killed us! You killed us, but you didn’t know! My brother still cannot hear me. He still feels the need to “keep it 100” by showing his aggression to prove that he is a “real man”, lashing out at our other caged brothers. But today was different! My brother ran into a brother that was bigger and badder than he was. He too suffered from the disease that infects our minds. I watch my end being repeated! My brother plays the role of me. Our other brother plays the role of him. And now I look over my brother’s lifeless body! The blood of his ancestors running across the wet floor into a drain leading to the unknown. I wanted to watch him suffer, but I am my brother’s keeper. As I watch his spirit rise from his body, I extend my hand to help him. “Brother, Take my hand!” He looked up at me and became shocked at the sight of a figure of a life taken during his former life. I helped my brother up and asked him if he ever thought of me? “Everyday”, he said. “Life and death kept us from communicating, but our spirits live on. Now we must talk! I love you brother. You killed us, but you didn’t know.” “Know what”, he said. I proceeded to tell him about the history of us and our long history of violence. Black violence! Tears began to roll down his face which its color resembled mine. He grabbed me and embraced me ever so tightly. “I’m so sorry brother, I’m so sorry! I didn’t know”, he said repeatedly. “It’s ok my brother, it’s never too late to save another”, I said. Then I saw a light come from above me. I gaze into the beautiful sky and there they were; my ancestors and loved ones that have gone on before me. They were rejoicing! “Well done my child! Now you can come home”, a voice said to me. I look to my brother as I ascend to heaven and say, “Now you know!” My brother looks down at the case that once contained his spirit for only a second. He then walks over to his killer, his brother, my brother, our brother, and stands by his side. “My brother! You killed us, but you didn’t know”, he said. Now my brother is telling the story. Its not my story, not his story, but our story! What a way to die!!
