There had been rumors going around that Lamont's death could have been prevented. All the kids n the pool reportedly had said that there were three lifeguards in the pool but they wouldn't respond when the kids start screaming. They supposedly played it off as a joke. My brother's life, a joke, wow! It later was confirmed that there had been three, count 'em one-two-three lifeguards in the pool at the time of Lamont's death. One reportedly was too engaged in flirting with the young girls in the pool. The other was possibly elevated on marijuana and I guess everything was 'irie' for him and the third lifeguard was too busy too care and basically unresponsive.
This confirmation made Lamont's passing even more devastating than before. To know that the stupid ass people put in charge of the safety of your loved ones, didn't give a flying fuck one way or another.
Needless to say, this was not only a very dismal time for me because of my brother's untimely death, but another death was also occurring. My parents had finalized their divorce a week before Christmas. Merry Christmas right!? They were separated and living apart during the time of Jason's death. Myself and my 5 other siblings lived with my father and Lamont lived with my mother. I was really hoping that it was a joke when my mother moved out, so I refused to go with her. I was hoping that she would say 'APRIL FOOL'S, and move her stuff back in. But she never did. Life had become painfully ugly.
I longed for someone to stop the world so that I could get off of it. I called out for 'Scotty' to beam me up but sadly, he never did. I often wondered what the point of my continued existence was.
If it was going to constantly be so excruciating and bitterly brutal, then I might as well turn in my faith badge immediately because, you know what, I was fresh out! I had none, zero, zilch!
For the next two years, my 'cottonie and cushy' life became a mere pile of broken glass. I despised 'happy'. I was absolutely jealous of all families that had two parents still married and living in the same household. I proudly and without fail hated, hated and hated, ceasing any signs of love relieving me from my deep black hole of life that I had voluntarily dug for myself to wallow in.