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    An Open Letter To God

    As I lay in bed last night, I felt these words spill out of me like tears. This is my open letter to God...

    My Brother Will Not Be The Next Hashtag

    July 5th, 2016

    10 PM

    An open letter to God:

    Dear God,

    I am afraid. I don't want to be afraid, because I know that you have not given us a spirit of fear, but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind - but still I am afraid.

    I have a brother who's almost sixteen. A fiercely independent, quiet, keeps to himself if he can keep it that way, ALMOST sixteen-year-old. My brother is loved and fed, which is more than some others can say. He has clean clothes on his back, a roof to sleep under at night, and I know that when he closes his eyes and his eyelashes flutter him off into twilight sleep that he is not afraid. But still I am afraid.

    My brother plays video games, a harmless habit that I too indulge in, spending hours on end laughing with his friends over wireless connections as the sounds of gunfire claps, and raps, and bangs from his television - but he is not afraid. Still, I am afraid.

    My brother goes outside to hang out with his friends, something normal, right? Something an ALMOST sixteen-year-old boy should be able to do, right? He walks down the street, head high as cotton, not a doubt in his mind that he won't make it back home. He is not afraid, but still I am afraid.

    Still, I am afraid, because my brother of almost sixteen possesses a little more melanin in his body that might make him seem JUST a little more dangerous or JUST a little more likely to commit a crime - this is why I am afraid.

    Still, I am afraid, that because my brother is quiet and keeps to himself, that he doesn't know what is happening just outside the walls that hold his bed - the place where he rests his head and falls asleep. What if he is questioned and deemed a little too quiet, a little too suspicious? This is why I am afraid.

    Still, I am afraid, that my brother will be shot, real life shot, multiple shots fired shot, for no reason at all, and because this is not a video game, my brother of almost sixteen will not be able to re-spawn back into place into my life. No, my brother will be gone. This is why I am afraid.

    Dear God, I am afraid.

    **

    Stop rationalizing the deaths of fathers, sons, husbands, friends, uncles, brothers, teenagers, teachers, CD slingers, men or women just because it fits a particular agenda. There are undoubtable inconsistencies within the justice system, and I vow now that my little brother will not be the next hashtag.

    A change is gonna come. ✊