I remember the first time I watched as the sirens beamed red and blue.

What could a young girl do to save someone who may or may not be innocent?

Had Z been guilty?

Would he tell the truth if he knew that either way he wouldn't be coming home that night?

I had no real emotion, only curiosity.

What good would it do to wonder “why us”.

This dark skin was a life sentence, and I knew that already.

The internalized trauma was not something I was unfamiliar with.

However I wondered when I looked at my brother if he would have a moment where he would be guilty before he got to tell the truth.