You might think it all started when our father was killed by a black man, but it didn’t. It started way before that. Three years ago while dad was still alive, Derek told him about Sweeney, his new, African-American teacher. He was supposed to read this new book, “Native Son” about some black man when my father began talking about how it was just some “nigger-bullshit”. And eventually Derek believed him and began thinking about the negative sides about the other ethnic groups. And when our father died he really began believing that all America’s problems were race-related. So he shaved his head and got in contact with a guy named Cameron. He also got a swastika tattoo. I suppose this is the point where his life began to worsen. One night some Crips tried to hijack Derek’s car which he had gotten from our father. I was the only one who heard it at first, so I ran into my brother’s room whereupon he got dressed, took his gun and walked outside. The Crips tried to escape, but Derek was too fast for them. He killed one of them and shot the other one in the leg. He told him to bite the curb. After a few seconds of reluctance, he did as he was told and Derek stomped on his head and broke his jaw. Then he was arrested by the police. Derek only got three years because I didn’t want to bear witness.
Det er gratis at oprette en konto