On Saturday, February 23, 2008 at 7:42 a.m. my phone rang. As I woke up I wondered who could possibly call me this early. As I was reaching to answer the phone I was thinking about the party I was going to that night and outfit choices were running through my head. Not even looking at my night stand, I grabbed my phone.
It was my cousin.
What could she possibly want?
So I answered the phone.
All of a sudden I couldn’t breathe.
The walls of my room were closing in on me.
I threw my phone at my bedroom wall and watched it smash into pieces.
I screamed.
Tears started rolling down my cheeks.
Now everything was dark.
I was on the floor.
Allen was dead.
My godfather, cousin, friend, dad, big brother.
The one who taught me how to ride a bike, the one who gave me my first listen to Tupac, the one that was supposed to walk me down the aisle at my wedding.
Gone.
Dead.
But wait, how is that possible?
Not even twelve hours ago I was hugging him and saying bye as he said he loves me and that he would see me later.
Not knowing there would never be a later.
Allen was killed not even six hours after I saw him last.
Eight gunshots.
Killed by the first.
The only fatal shot.
From the day Allen died, I developed some sort of paranoia to death. I was at the point where I couldn’t learn of someone’s death, let alone speak of death. I had only lost one person that was close to me prior to Allen’s death, my aunt, his mother, Jackie and that didn’t take as much a toll on me as Allen dying; maybe it was because I was 8 when she died and 13 when he died.
Then a few weeks after Allen’s funeral, I was talking to his fiancée, Dana, when she told me that Allen told her he wasn’t scared of dying. Shocked, I asked her if he said why and she told me his exact words “why should I be scared to die when it’s going to happen anyway.” When she told me what he said I froze because, somehow, I knew he was right.
As I was going to bed that night I just thought what reasons I could possibly have to not fear death, I don’t want to die! Then I realized it was because as long as you fulfill the plans God has for you, what else could you possibly do? If you have made sure that you’re the best you that you could possibly be you shouldn’t have a reason to fear death or try to avoid it because at least you know that you had a reason to live and you succeeded. After I realized that, I really knew that Allen was right. I know that I have a purpose in life and whatever I make out of myself and whatever that purpose is I know I will be the best me I could possibly be until the end. Of course to everyone around you it’s going to hurt at first, but with time those wounds will heal and they’ll know that you were in their lives for a reason and you changed them forever.
Don’t fear death. Let it fear you and live your life to the fullest until you can live no more.