Wednesday night my Dad came in the house, didn't speak, went straight to my moms room, and said "Tisha come here." I got up, and heard my mom say "what's wrong." He looked down, his eyes glazed, and said "Jamon's dead." In disbelief, I walked away. It wasn't true, it couldn't be. I locked myself in the bathroom. Sitting there crying, there's no way that he's gone. I heard my dad say he has to go identify the body. So in my mind, it wasn't real. It was a mistake. I got in the shower, and stayed there 'till the water got cold. waiting for my dad to come back, for my mom to knock on the door, and say it wasn't him, that they made a mistake.
By time I got out, my phone was vibrating nonstop with missed calls, txts, FB alerts, Twitter mentions. Everyone asking "if it was true," sending love and prayers. It was all surreal. A day passed, and the candlelight was held. The mass of people, the tears, the photos lining the skatepark ramps, I seen it all, I was there, but I wasn't there. It still wasn't real. I still didn't believe my brother was gone. It didn't make sense. The sleepless nights began. Scared to sleep, in fear of not waking up. In fear of seeing my brother in my dreams. In fear. Death is my biggest fear. Not failure, not a bug or a monster, but death. And I've experience a friend passing before, but this time death hit too close to home.
Friday, the visitation was held. And I broke down. Seeing everyone pass the casket, tears came to my eyes. As I got closer I seen his hair, but I couldn't look. I turned away, and started walking away. But I wanted to see him. I needed to know it was him. Looking into the casket was a boy. Not my brother, I don't who he was, he had my brothers hair, and his clothes. But it wasn't him. I broke down. That wasn't my brother. I still didn't believe it.
Saturday came. The day of the funeral. All my best friends, came in town, so I rode there with them. I really love them, man. Tanisha. Alexis. Shauntel. Sha'day. And Mya. They've really been here for me during this time. And my God Sister, she flew in from GA. Everyone really. All my friends, and family have made this a little bit easier. But the funeral was difficult. Seeing my dad cry was the worst, you know. That's something you never see a father do. But to lose a child. Man. To lose a brother. This pain... I wouldn't wish on anyone.
School seems irrelevant. Being alone is scary. My world has been flipped upside down. There's so many unanswered questions racing through my mind. The migraines are worse than they ever were before. Inside I literally feel like I'm falling apart. BUT on the outside, I gotta smile. I have to stay strong for my family. I always have to be strong for my family. Being the oldest, gives you responsibilities you don't ask for, but you have to take on. Sometimes I want to yell "I've had enough, I'm tired of looking out for everyone else. I'm tired of everything being put on me."
But I don't. I can't think that way. My dad needs me. My youngest brother needs me. My family. And now all of my brothers friends are turning to me for reassurance that everything is going to be okay.
At the end of the day I have to remember, God will never give you more than you can handle.