Death of a hero

It’s late. I don’t have what time it is, but I know it’s late. My parents have just woken me up from a good dream, only to put me into a nightmare. It was April 4th, 1968. The day that I will never forget. Martin Luther King Jr. was shot and killed earlier this evening, while on his motel balcony in Memphis, TN. This is surreal to me. “Am I dreaming right now?” There are so many things racing through my mind, so many things that I want to do, so many fucking emotions! This is real, but I don’t want to believe it. Assassinated! The one man, who meant more to African Americans anything. The man who was leading us in the civil rights movement! How could this happen? “Who could do such a thing?!” I wonder if they caught him the person who did this. What do we do, what happens next…?