Friday, February 6, 2015

We Will Never Know When Our Day Could be our Last

Before I accepted Jesus as my Lord and Savior I was involved with the Latin Kings, a powerful Hispanic gang, for 3 and ½ years in the west side of Chicago specifically Humboldt Park.  During the second year of being involved in the gang, I learned a valuable lesson that I will carry in my heart till I die. I learned that we just don’t know when we will die. At that time in my life, I thought that I finally found a family that I belong in but it took the sacrifice of my emotions, friends, safety, and sanity. I was in the edge of depression from seeing a lot of friends getting killed from drive by and leaving but never coming back. In a regular August day my Marco and I went to play basketball in a local park that had a playground only 10 feet away from the basketball court. I known my friend since I was in seventh grade. He got me involved in the Latin king when I was in eighth grade. Daily, I was with him playing basketball and hanged out every day and talk about what was going on in our lives. One of the things that we had in common was that we both came from a broken family. Both of our fathers were alcoholics and daily getting drunk. We came from families that never wanted to play a part of our lives because our families didn’t know how to deal with destruction that our fathers caused in our families. He was like a brother to me and stood by my side when hard times and goodtimes came.  While I was shooting around with Marco, I saw a little kid around six or seven with brown hair trying to climb up the slide. He was going up and slipped and went all the way down. He kept doing this for five minutes. I felt bad so I told my friend “Hey Hold up, let me help the kid out. Just shoot around for a little.” He replied, “Sounds good but afterwards let’s go out to eat”. So I ran to the little kid and when he saw me walking to him, a big smile appeared on his face. When I walked up to him I asked him, “Can I help you get up the slide?” and without hesitation he jumped up and said “Yes! Please!” I went to pick him up and right when I put him on the top of the slide, I heard three gunshots. Instantly, I grabbed the kid and put him underneath me to try to use myself as a shield for him.  After the shots ceased, I looked back to the basketball court and I saw my friend laying down. I ran to the basketball court and saw that my friend had been shot three times in the chest and blood was everywhere. I picked up his bloody body in my arms and put my hand over the gunshot wounds in his chest. I was yelling with tears running down my face, “Help, help, please, this can’t be happing, somebody help please, please! God save him!! God please! Stay with me, homie! Somebody is coming to help you! I got you! I can’t keep going on life without you, bro. Stay with me, man!” I kept yelling until my voice was gone from hopelessness and not being able to deal with the pain anymore.  Every second I felt his breathing slowing down while my mind became a hurricane, leaving a path of destruction. My mind was playing a movie of the times he had saved me from being shot or getting stabbed. I was bawling, knowing that I wouldn’t have Marco for the rest of my life. The ambulance came in 10 minutes, which felt like a lifetime, and they pronounced him dead on site. In the ambulance, with his lifeless body next to me the only thing that I was thinking about was getting revenge. I was angry at the heartless person that took the only brother I had from me. This event has pushed me over the edge of depression and I struggled for depression for the next two and a half years. We just don’t know if this is our last day, last hour, last minute or last second. I learned the hard way that it only takes one second for somebody’s life to be taken.

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