This morning my 17yr-old son walked in my bedroom.  With a low voice he said, 'Mom, I need you to look up something." I knew something was wrong by the sad tone in his voice.

My son stood by me and I heard his words,  "They are saying Marque is dead!" He walked in circles and with one breath he said,  "Mom, I don't even know what I am doing right now. I'm lost. How is this possible? Wow, Mom look  for me and tell me they are wrong"

I wanted to tell him it's not Marque. But even if not, someone else will bury their 17yr-old son. I sat today hearing the same words I would hear over and over from my older son, when he was 17, and neighborhood youth he went to school with and played with were killed.

My son awoke this morning to be in a psychological frozen state for the remainder of the day. How long will this go on? How long will our children loose the sparkle in their eyes with the reminisce of death?  

I found in the SacBee a 17yr old was shot and killed near our old home, off Mack Road and Summerdale.  I told my son, "there is no name in the story" He stood over me as I read it to him. He said, " It's Marque. Mom, I can't believe he's gone." Tears begin to fill his eyes.  I tried so hard to comfort him.

In comforting him, tears begin to fill my eyes.  How do I comfort him when he knows death is final? Am I going from taking my older son to funerals of his murdered friends to now taking my younger son to funerals? Am I walking on a treadmill?

The day before yesterday  a man is shot around the corner, gunshots, lights, helicopters, sirens - man in body bag.

Yesterday, helicopters continuously flying overhead. We held our breath and hoped it would not be a crime scene like the day before.

This morning, 17yr old Marque, shot and killed in our old neighborhood. Our cries echo from one Sacramento area to another.

I tried to keep my son home from school. But he said, "I need to go. I need to leave. I have to keep my mind on something else. Mom, I don't want him to be dead"