Atatiana Jefferson
1990 – 2019
The young woman was murdered. The officer didn’t hesitate. I guess he thought he was going to be a hero. Such thoughts quickly turned to shit.
I don’t know what that call was like. The phone rang. The phone wasn’t supposed ring. Maybe it wasn’t a call. Maybe the words came face to face. I can’t imagine. Life was dead. Nothing was ever going to be the same.
Before the sun arose, the vultures had descended. Picking at the body…the attorneys knew that there was much to be taken. Money was collected before anyone knew whether or not money was needed. The generalized language of the appeals assured that the money would get where they intended it to go. The protests were about money. The vigils were about money. Everything they perpetuated was about money. Everyone else wanted justice…they just wanted money…and as much as they could get.
Growing more and more frustrated…the father held a news conference demanding for all of the foolishness to stop. The young woman was not named money. He looked ill. From his seat, you could tell that he was giving everything that he could for his daughter. The lawyers responded by assuring the family that they would do everything they could for their money. The injunction wasn’t going to slow them down…they were going to get paid no matter what.
Over the next few days, the lawyers fought the father in court. There was no understanding that he was growing more and more ill. I guess they didn’t care. By the time the funeral arrived, they wanted to make sure that he knew that they meant business. The father couldn’t even make it through the services before he was served with legal papers. Money was more important than anything…including the father’s health.
The lawyers wouldn’t stop. They made him sit in court for countless hours. Regardless of the cost…they were going to cash in. Every time they saw him he looked more and more worn down. That was the plan. A dead man can’t fight no more.
He fought as hard as he could. At the end of the day, it didn’t matter. When his heart finally stopped, he looked up to see the lawyers holding knives drenched in blood. They knew the money was now all theirs. They’d finally cashed in. The word “justice” had done it again.
Hungry for more…the vultures flew away.
Marquis Jefferson
1961 – 2019
Amen.
Ad-Free & Subscriber Log-In