My uncle knows how disconnected I am but still, he tries to keep me engaged by telling me the latest news on the cops. The more the city resists charging them, the more pissed off Black folks get. Some make a cozy knit scarf out of their rage so they can wear it to keep them warm as the temperatures drop. Some people liquefy their rage, mix it with their tea, and sip it slowly. And others, like my uncle, breed their rage into attack dogs, ready to launch at anyone, anytime.

When I was a kid, my mom’s friend took us to church. The pastor said that if we were worried or fearful about anything, we could call Jesus on the main line. I mistook that for an actual phone call. So when someone was mean to me, I’d ask my mom for God’s number, so I could tell on them. She told me that God probably wouldn’t answer for little things like people teasing me at lunch.

I wonder if my mom getting shot counts as a big thing to God. Or is it a regular old Tuesday for him?

I close my eyes and fall asleep not long after just waking up. The next day, I do the same thing. I vaguely recall brushing my teeth, or it might have been a movie I watched where the Black girl was getting ready. I can’t remember. The calendar app on my cell tells me that two weeks have gone by. I guess I can’t really object—the calendar tends to win those arguments—but for me, time is still.

Earlier this morning, Uncle Ty entered my room to tell me that more info about the officers has leaked out. Both of them have multiple complaints for excessive force over the years. One person filed a complaint saying the officer who shot my mom had called him the N-word just before putting him in the squad car. In addition, reports are that both officers were overheard referring to us as “savages.” The uproar over the cops’ past behavior got to be so much that by the end of the day, the city announced it would be convening a grand jury.

My uncle and my friends thought that piece of good news would get me to come back to life, but it did not. And now, they are really worried about me. They all try to help in their own way. Uncle Ty lets me eat whatever I want for dinner, but most times, I end up just picking at it. Nai tries to keep my mind off everything by sending me random clips of trashy reality TV shows. Dell makes goofy videos he calls “In White-Folks News.” The best one was a loony white woman who vowed to stage a protest against the Bronx Zoo for refusing to let her in the lion cage to take a selfie.