Black Lives Matter

May 25th 2020; the pivotal day in which racism ended, not only in the United States, but throughout the world. A movement that shook Earth and its people—allowing everyone to see the injustice that happened in front of their eyes.

“Mom, I’m heading out to the peaceful protest,” I called out to my mom as I tied my shoelaces near our front door. “I’ll be back later tonight.”

My mom peeked from the kitchen, her apron and hair matched—both messy and brown. “Sasha, don’t stay too long. Remember, you have a college graduation party tomorrow morning.” I could smell the aroma of dinner being made. My mom made traditional food every Friday, and I was missing out. I wished to stay, but there were more pressing matters to attend. I’d had to eat alone when I got back.

“Don’t worry, mom. I’ll be with my friends the entire time. You might see us on TV,” I said, opening the front door. Beep. Beep. Beep. My friend’s car horned. “I love you,” I said, then waited for her reply before rushing out the door. I greeted my friends with a smile.

“Your mom doesn’t want you to go?” Maya asked, looking out the window of the driver’s seat. 

“She’s worried I’ll get hurt. I’m afraid she believes what she sees on TV,” I replied, looking at the sun as it descended. The sun painted its path down the horizon in beautiful colors—a true artist. “I told her we weren’t going for the violence.” Jessica fidgeted with her fingers as she sat beside Jessica; I took the back seat. They had their masks over their mouths and scarfs covered their necks. 

As we made our way to the city center—a fifteen-minute-drive from my home—Maya played music and we had the windows down, welcoming the warm late-spring breeze. I got ready by wearing my custom-made mask and wrapping my scarf around my neck. Jessica came prepared with a first-aid kit, but I knew it wasn’t necessary. The organizers of the protest made it clear it would be a peaceful protest. Besides, if any violence broke out, we didn’t plan on staying.

“There’s quiet a few people here,” I said, surveying the loud crowd down Main Street. There were at least a few hundred, maybe more, as the Main Street connected to other major streets. 

“Yeah, we should park away from this street,” Maya said, worried. “I don’t want my car to turn into flames.” Her head turned from side to side. I spotted a reflection of her intense dark eyes on the rear-view mirror.

“That will not happen, Maya,” I said, hoping my words came out more confident than I felt. “Our state isn’t like the others, we’re not violent.”

Maya created three signs for us. I had the main one that said ‘Black Lives Matter’ Jessica held ‘No Justice No Peace’ and Maya held ‘I Can’t Breathe.’ Maya parked a few blocks from the start of the protest—making sure the car wasn’t in the path.

The protest march started off at 6PM—a few minutes after we arrived. Protesters chanted “I Can’t Breathe” to start, then it changed throughout the march. We were towards the middle of the crowd but most of the people who yelled out chants were in the crowd's front, everyone else behind them—including us—repeated after them. They also had a banner, but I couldn’t read exactly what it had said.

Once we reached the end of Main Street, a line of cops stood blocking the street. Someone from the cop's side tossed a tear gas to the front of the crowd. This tear gas sparked a chaos within the protesters. People scrambled, especially the ones were in the front. The tear gas hit them first and the gas slowly crept its way to the back.

Jessica, Maya and I remained close to each other, at most an arm span away. I turned my head to check who exactly threw it and I saw a line of cops with their riot shield and helmets on. Maya and Jessica continued moving away from the gas, but I stopped for a few seconds. Someone twice my size bumped on my shoulder. I almost fell, but I regained my balance before falling on the ground. 

“Sasha,” Maya’s voice mixed with everyone else who yelled. I glanced around and saw her a few feet in front of me. Her face covered with her scarf except a small area of her eyes—just enough for her to see what’s in front of her. “Cover your face. They’re—” Her last few words mixed with the noises within the scrambling crowd.

I stumbled to place my scarf around my face and before I knew it, tear gas was rising from the ground. A tear bomb fell right beside my shoes. I made one look at it and a few seconds I went unconscious. 

My eyes burned as I tried to separate my eyelids as if I’ve been cutting onions for hours nonstop. My back laid flat on the ground with Jessica and Maya at my sides and someone I didn’t recognize at the end of my feet. The person’s entire face was covered with some cloth and the way he turned his face I assumed he was talking to them but I couldn’t hear anyone or anything except the zinging sound inside my ears. I turned my head from side to side to see what was going on. People ran around in chaos as if we were inside a mall on Black Friday. But I felt safe as I laid far away from the violence.

Maya handed me a bottle of water, and I chugged it down my dry throat. “How long have I been out?” I asked, finally able to speak. I tried standing up but only made it halfway, my legs remained flat on the ground. I could finally hear, from one ear, all the shouting and chaos that built while I was unconscious. 

“You’ve been out for a few minutes,” Maya said. “It’s getting bad as you can see.” She pointed her hand around. People were looting inside the stores and shops after breaking the glass, others burned police cars and graffitied anything they could get spray-paint on. 

“Tell it how it is,” Jessica said, then I turned to her. “The cops threw tear gas at the crowd—one of them dropping beside your feet. They opened fire at protestors with rubber bullets. That’s why people became violent. A peaceful protest turning into a violent protest in a matter of minutes.”

“Are you able to walk or stand?” Maya asked. “I’m ready to go back home. This is not what I came for.”

“Yes, I think so.”

“This is not looking good, but it wasn’t entirely the protestors fault,” Jessica said, as I heard more shots in the background. I made my way off the ground. My hearing from the other ear returned. 

Sasha ended the story at that since it was time for her grandchildren to sleep. “Let’s go, children. Time for bed,” she stood up from hair chair with the assistance of her cane. 

Two of her grandchildren ran towards the stairs and disappeared to the second floor. One remained with her. “So there was injustice when you were our age?” Her grandchild asked, looking up at her. 

“Yes, but that day sparked something big,” Sasha said. “Life was different when I was your age.”

Her grandchild continued looking up at her, listening attentively even after she stopped. 

“Now, go upstairs,” she said, as they stood at the bottom of the steps. “It will take me a minute or two to be up there.” Her grandchild ran up the stairs while Sasha turned off the living room lights and made her trek up the thirteen steps.