I Left the Lights on and Ran Errands

I left the lights on and ran errands. And thank Christ, I did.

They always call my kind animals and savages but look at what they do to my house when I'm away. Torching my home where my wife and my kids sleep. And for what? Because we live in their neighborhood? To torch your neighbor's home because he and his family live here is obscene. And my kind is called animals and savages. Simply because of the pigmentation of our skin.

I left the lights on and ran errands. But I didn't leave them on purposely. I was in a rush to get to my job interview and forget to turn them off. But it's a good thing I left them that way. Now the white folks think my family and I are home and they're hurling Molotov cocktails into our windows, causing the place to be consumed by an angry flame. If it weren't for my forgetfulness, they'd wait until my family and I got home to torch us. But no. God saved us this day.

I left the lights on and ran errands. And while I was off taking care of my duties, my wife was dropping the kids off at school. They're angry. They're all angry at a family simply for living. And it's because of those Jim Crow laws. Segregation and division in this country all because of the white man's ego. How is society supposed to get any better when this is where we're headed? How can the world become a better place when this is how man treats his neighbor? I wouldn't speak ill will of my worst enemy. I wouldn't. Just wasn't how I was raised. But this heinous action, this crime, shows me how these individuals were raised. The fact that I'm even alive to see this just means I must thank my lord that...

...I left the lights on and ran errands. And now my home is being torched by a group of angry white men. Men who are supposed to be my neighbors. I'd be lying if I said I didn't see something like this coming. When my family and I moved into this neighborhood, we would receive judgmental looks and overhear hateful speech while walking down the street. Those stares and gossip eventually became death threats that were aimed directly at us. The first instance of this was when my wife and I went to the corner store to get some diapers for our daughter. We ended up leaving the store without those diapers that night because the store clerk, instead of selling us what we needed, pulled a 12 gauge shotgun from underneath the counter and stuck it in my wife's face. I was already coming up with ways to explain to the kids why I was returning from the store without their mother. Before I could even react, the man opened his mouth and gave us a warning. He said that if he ever saw us "eggplants" in his store again, he'd kill us where we stood, mop our blood off of his floor, and leave our bodies in the dumpster bin behind the store. My wife couldn't get her words together and respond to him because her voice was shaking and breaking as tears rolled down her face. I answered for both of us, saying "yes sir. My apologies for the inconvenience." He stared into my soul for one full minute before sticking the gun back underneath the counter and allowing me and my wife to return home to our kids. Later that day, my wife washed the poop out of our daughter's diaper in the bathroom sink and placed the diaper back on her. None of us could sleep with Bella's crying that night.

I left the lights on and ran errands today. And now I'm standing across the street from my burning home, the one that I worked so unbelievably hard to get for me and my family. My blood sweat and tears are about to be a mere pile of ashes. My wife isn't gonna have a kitchen to prepare her classic Jamaican dishes in anymore. My daughter's dollhouse and her tea party set will be no more. My son's books are probably sitting in a pile of burnt paper and unreadable words. None of us will have pillows to rest our heads on tonight. But because I left the lights on before running those errands, we get to live and figure out what's next, together.

I left the lights on and ran errands. And my lord, I thank you for that. The fire rages on and on and the persecutors continue to shout and release the concealed hatred from within their hearts. The street below the house is loud with their rage and what used to be my home now looks like a burnt offering to some sort of diety. The smell is that of melting mercury, tenfold. And I can feel the scorching heat on my face from several feet away which causes the skin on my cheeks to feel as if it's about to melt off of the bones. My lord, why are these men doing this? Why are they so angry? Why are their hearts so filled with rage that they would be willing to burn a family, simply for existing? Man is meant to love his enemy as his neighbor according to your will. But when my neighbor is the unlovable one, where does the love begin? My dear lord, I was never raised to speak poorly of anyone or to slander anyone's name, or even to give another person a foul look. But what I am about to ask of you is only being asked because of my conflicting emotions right now. I am angry, confused, and horrified. My God, if they wish to see the fire burn bright, then let the fire be their abode. Men like this have no place on this Earth and certainly not in your divine paradise. The fire should be their home, eternally. My lord, please strike them down where they stand and send them to their new residence in the hellfire beneath their feet. I know it's unrighteous to ask of you, but I am simply a human with my own feelings. My anger grows more and more as I witness this event unfold. And now, it must be akin to theirs. The fire blazes, turning the sky above it auburn. The air becomes unbreathable and the crowd's roar fills the neighborhood. And here I stand, witnessing such an egregious thing.