She won’t go to jail. I’m not going to fool myself into believing that she will. I’m not even frustrated by the reality that she may not confess or supply a dying declaration that serves as justice. I’m not sure if she is suffering in a painfully agonizing state or morphine-numb and just awaiting the call from her maker. I don’t know how that part ends and I’m really not occupied with thoughts towards it.

Not what you thought I’d say, huh.

Well…

Part 13.

“I’m putting cases on all you mothaphuckas…”

-Denzel voice.

None of what I am about to say is funny, but understand that laughter has been the only way that I can get through some of this. You just gotta laugh your way through it.

Let me let you in on some of the wild sh¡t I’ve heard over the past couple of years…

In no particular order:

⁃ I heard that one of the reasons that my biological family didn’t have much to do with me after my Mom’s murder was because I had chosen to go and live with the family of the person responsible for my Mom’s murder. Not because I went to live with the murderer, but I chose to go and live with her family. What I’ve been told is that many people were angry at me for doing that.

Certain “family” members made a conscious decision to acknowledge me with their absence, because I chose to stay with my Dad after my Mom’s murder. My aunt told me that no one ever called and checked on her, so why would she check on us?

So, me, a 15 year old at the time, was held responsible for attempting to keep what little of a family we did have left, together.

(I heard this from my Mother’s sister, my biological aunt, on June 16, 2022. I finally found her and spoke to her about her absence and the absence of that family from our lives. This was accompanied by an apology from her, for abandoning us.)

⁃ I heard that my Dad’s family murdered my Mother for control of me and the money that my Mother had setup for me, upon her death. I heard that my Dad’s family had forbidden anyone from my biological father’s family from visiting me. I heard that my Mother’s estate and affairs were well known and it was public knowledge that I’d chosen to go and live with the killers. As a matter of fact, I had gotten all of this money and even taken care of a high school girlfriend that was pregnant with a baby that was supposed to be mine. I’d spent a fortune on her and this baby that turned out not to be mine.

(I heard this from one of my biological relatives on my Father’s side, as she explained and apologized for her and my family’s absence from my life over all of these years. This conversation was in November of 2023. )

⁃ I heard that the word on the street was that I killed my Mom and I wasn’t arrested because I was a kid who had been abused by my strict gay Mother. I was a psychopath and people should beware of me. This was supposedly the rumor for awhile before someone cleared it up some years later. By then, the damage had been done.

(I heard this from a former childhood classmate who told me that they were told this around the time of my Mom’s murder. She said it wasn’t until a discussion she had in 2006, at a high school reunion, where my name came up and she was told about my Mother’s girlfriend killing her. She said that she wanted to reach out and apologize but felt bad because she’d believed the rumor she once heard and felt foolish for not ever reaching out to me. I heard this in November 2023. She apologized on this day, saying that reading what I said about our story online had sparked a conversation between her and another former classmate of mine, that explained to her that she’d had me pegged all wrong.)

⁃ I heard that it was known, in and around the community, that my Mother was gay. She was involved in a love triangle and when she was murdered, the sentiment was that my Dad had done it. It wasn’t until someone read a news article that talked about us, her children, being with him the weekend she was killed, that it was realized he hadn’t done it. Then those people realized that it was committed by her girlfriend. The situation was just so filled with drama and mess and no one wanted to be bothered with the ugly parts of it.

(I heard this from a biological family member on my Mother’s side. This conversation was last week, December 2023.)

You laughing yet? It’s a real fvcking knee-slapper! And this is just some of the stuff I’ve heard over the past few weeks. The conversation with my aunt was a little over a year ago, but check this out: she has never called again.

This is comedy!

For the record: My Dad did not kill my Mom. I did not kill my Mom. My Dad’s “family” did not kill my Mom. Yes, one of his family members killed my Mom. My Dad has nothing to do with her. My Dad hasn’t even spoken to his sister, that relatives mother, in 30 years because of all of this.

This was a fvcked up situation. It is still a fvcked up situation. Complicated by the family connections and history. It is confusing to keep up with. And it’s sensitive, it’s traumatic, toxic, it’s almost unbelievable.

But this is my real life.

Let’s keep going…

My wife has been hearing a lot of this. She’s been watching and listening to me have these conversations. She feels like I’m torturing myself by listening to these people say the things they are saying, after all of these years.

Her and I had a big disagreement about this recently. I tried to get her to understand that I have gone almost 30 years without hearing from ANY of these people. I deserve to hear something. Even if it’s bullsh¡t, or it hurts, or it’s an outright lie. I’m trying to get her to understand what it has been like to be tortured by a total and collective silence, from EVERYONE involved. Today was the first time she admitted that her frustration comes from all of this overwhelming her. Because it is unconscionable and incomprehensible that this story could be true. And she’s hearing all of these people say that EVERYTHING I am saying is 100% true.

Now, some more funny sh¡t…

I have told so many people, for so many years, how awkward this has all been. As a child, immediately following my Mother’s murder, I tried to maintain a sense of relationship and normalcy for us, or for myself at least. I tried to contact and connect with so many people that I was familiar with. But there used to be this feeling. This feeling used to be in every room, in every conversation, in every space that people and I occupied. The thing about this feeling is that I internalized it to eventually be my issue. I felt like it was something about me that people felt and they did not want to say anything.

Understand, I have always blamed myself for my Mothers murder. Because the last thing she ever said to me was, “Corey, stay with me this weekend”, and I refused her. I’d always told myself that had I would have been there, Hazel would not have done this. My Mother and Hazel fought a lot over the last 2 years of her life. Many of those fights I was present for. Part of the reason I was there was because my Mom would send my siblings to my Dad’s house so that they weren’t around. I wasn’t much by way of protection, but I believe my Mother felt like my presence kept Hazel at bay. I felt the same way. She would never do or say certain things if I was around.

This “feeling” that I speak of being present, I used to think that everyone else blamed me too. I felt like they held me responsible for not staying with her that weekend. I felt like it was all my fault. And I felt like they all thought it was my fault.

That guilt ate at me for much of this 29+ years. And it wasn’t until these last few weeks, and these apologies, that I finally let myself off the hook. I am just now realizing and recognizing that I should have never blamed myself. One of my aunts, in a conversation recently, said that I had no business being the only adult in the room back then. A 15 year old! She said that, “… To be honest, no one even paid attention to what we were doing to you. And we weren’t listening, because we were the adults, and you were a child.”

Laughing so hard, tears are coming out of my eyes.

I knew there was a feeling. I’ve been saying it for all these years. Not only is there a feeling, but it is coupled with a mood, an energy. I’ve always felt out of place or unwanted in company or communication with these people. And I couldn’t figure out why!

Here comes a punchline…

Yesterday I was contacted by Dixmoor police department. After all of these years, they’ve finally returned my phone calls. Commander Davis was gracious in having to inform me that there are no files or info from 1994 in their possession. No reports or case files. I was told that the department only went digital in the last few years. Everything previous was done by paper and pen. And there is none of that to be found. I also spoke with the clerks, both for the village and the police department. There is a lot of suspicion and silence around what happened to my Mom. That’s agreed on. Nothing really came out from the conversations I had.

Oh. But. Wait.

While talking to me it was said that the reason that Hazel was let go from custody was because her lawyer showed up. The evidence that the investigators had was circumstantial and from what I was told, the “6th District” does not, and does not have a history of, touching cases that have mostly circumstantial evidence. That circumstantial evidence and the quality of attorney that she had, presented a formidable opponent for the State prosecutor. So they let her go home until they could procure evidence that was ironclad; hopefully the gun, or a confession.

While the little information that came out was coming yesterday, I did hear something that I’d not known all of these years.

Breathe.

Check this out: There is an employee at the station that was there in 1994. I was on the phone with the employee yesterday. The employee is familiar with people in my Mother’s case. Casually it was mentioned that “Mother Craig” had secured an attorney for her granddaughter.

Y’all don’t understand my life.

“Mother Craig” is my Dad’s mom.

“Mother Craig” was who I considered a grandmother. She was my siblings blood grandmother. She is my Dad’s- the man I consider Dad- mother.

She was Hazels grandmother.

I loved Momma Craig. I spent time, lots of time, with Momma Craig.

Wait. What.

One of the reasons this lady never got prosecuted was because her attorney showed up and was able to intimidate the state authorities so much so that they decided not to charge her in that moment and wait for a stronger case.

That attorney is part of the reason I never got justice.

And one of the women that I see as grandma got her that attorney?

Fvck my life.

(Cont’d)

©️2023 Cornelious “See” Flowers