“Britt,” as we called her, was outgoing, loving, and an extremely gifted psalmist. I remember traveling from Miami to Naples on Alligator Alley and receiving several calls. I remember the tone of my cousin Lonnie’s voice as he asked me, “Where was my sister?” I remember confirming the news to my auntie Jewel and the weeping on the other end of the line.
I remember my friend, Becky, crying hysterically in the car while accompanying me home; however, my sole focus was to make it home to my parents. I remember arriving at the crime scene and trying to cross the caution tape, but was stopped by the police. I remember Niqua’s family were already there. Lord, I remember. I remember the investigator stating that they had someone in custody.
I will always remember that sorrowful Saturday on October 25, 2008. Rumors soon circulated and I found myself constantly on news boards responding to inaccurate information about my sister. I needed to honor her. Eventually, the opportunity arrived to confront their killer in court. This came on the exact day my stepsister died in a car accident. This was another blow to our family.
My heart pounded as they led my sister’s murderer out in front of me. I remember taking a deep breath and resting my hand on my uncle’s leg to calm him down. I remember consoling my mother as she heard details of the grizzly crime. I remember he acted in the most inappropriate manner. I remember addressing him. I remember losing a piece of my heart.
Shortly after, I lost an aunt whom I couldn’t revive after finding her unconscious, a friend, and the same uncle who was with us in court on sentencing day.
I have been through the fire.