I remember being in Decatur, Georgia when I got the phone call. My oldest cousin, Tiffany, had been shot and killed by her so-called boyfriend. She was packing her bags ready to leave. She finally came to her senses and realized that an abusive relationship was not what she wanted. He tried to stop her. This time she fought back. By the power of God, she made it out of the house. She gave a quick glance back. She had forgotten her keys. When she opened the door bang, bang, bang. She fell to her knees My cousin was two months pregnant with their child. Three days later, he did the unthinkable: shot himself before my uncles and dad got to him. I remember crying my eyes out for days upon days. I remember feeling guilty and was very depressed. I remember everything going blank.
As precious as could be, my cousin Tiffany meant the world to me. Gone too soon is an understatement. She hadn't even started a life of her own. It's such a shame that she didn't get to take that final step across the graduation stage. She was the daughter of a soldier, the daughter of a cop. A madman took her life for no apparent reason. Rest in peace to Tiffany who may be gone but is not forgotten.
(Kenyatta Warren, 9th Grade)
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