C H A P T E R 5 : Surreal.

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Friday,

June 12th, 1995

11:00 a.m.



    The next few days around the house was a mixture of sadness and pain. The smell of Jeremiah's cologne permeated throughout the air. His cologne was like a slap to the face, a harsh reminder to the family that he was no longer there. Both Kodeni and Mrs. King were still trying to process the loss. It was a hard thing for the ladies to grasp. They couldn't quite wrap their minds around. The smiles both women had on their faces were masking the hurt and pain brewing inside, especially Mrs. King.

   Not too long ago, Mrs. King had buried her husband, and now she had to lay her second oldest son to rest. At this point in life, Mrs. King just wanted to cry. Everything that could go wrong was doing just that. Everything back home in Georgia was going downhill. She was at risk of losing her beautiful home, she and her eldest brother had just fallen out, and to top it off she was just diagnosed with first-stage breast cancer. She had come to Chicago to escape her demons back at home, but the wicked voodoo followed her.

   Mrs. King put the thoughts of her Georgia life behind her. She was trying to remain focus on the present situation, which was burying her son. Mrs. King needed to stay strong for the sake of Kodeni, Layla, and the rest of the grandkids. She watched as her daughter-in-law and grand-daughter grieved over her son. It hurt her heart to see the two ladies that loved him unconditionally hurt so much.

   Mrs. King was standing in the kitchen. She poured herself a cup of coffee and then sat at one of the chairs at the marble island. Mrs. King picked up the morning paper and began to read it. Once she opened it, she saw a cover story about her son. She quickly flipped the page and looked for something else to read. Her mind couldn't focus at the moment; it was everywhere. I don't even know why I'm tryna read this right now, she said to herself. After a few more moments, she set the paper down and got up from the chair.

   Mrs. King walked out of the kitchen and stood at the arch of the kitchen and the living room's entrance. She watched as Kodeni and Layla sat in the living room. Kodeni lay on the couch in the fetal position while Layla sat in front of the tv, Indian style while watching cartoons. Grandma King sighed. Kodeni and Layla both were former shells of themselves. They had been walking around the house like lost, confused, orphans. She tried her best to comfort them. They cried on her shoulder for hours upon hours. Kodeni cried so much that it turned into light whimpers.

   Mrs. King was the strong one in the family. Even though her heart was hurting, and she wanted to cry, she pushed her tears back to make sure that her family was okay. Mrs. King wanted to sit around and mope but knew that she couldn't. She needed to take over her son's role as the strong one. She had to be the one to hold everything and everyone together now.

   It had been a week since the homicide had occurred, and the Chicago P.D. really showed no interest in solving the murder. They showed more interest in Jeremiah's personnel life, rather than addressing the actual crime. They were more interested in defaming his character then capturing the person behind taking down Jeremiah. As far as the C.P.D. was concerned, someone had done what they couldn't, taking down a person they had been trying to take down for years. Just the thought of them not giving a damn hurt. It made tears rush to Grandma King's eyes. How could they devalue her son's life like that? Did they not have any sympathy? It was sick how the Chicago police department and news was trying to demonize him. In a way, it felt as if they were trying to justify it. like it was okay because he was a 'drug kingpin.' Regardless of his lifestyle, Jeremiah was still a human being. Not to mention innocent, an innocent man who was shot dead in front of his home. Could they at least show some respect, a little remorse? The man still had a family that was grieving, and all they wanted right now was closure.

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