I was sitting at home on a beautiful bright sunny afternoon in my apartment. I’d just come back from a trip to the supermarket to pickup some food to prepare for dinner later that night. After putting away the groceries, I decided to open the doors and windows so that the apartment could air out. I’m glad I did. The air was cool and refreshing. Giving the whole place a nice clean smell.

I sat down to a cup of java and started going through my file cabinet. While there, I came across a manila envelope. I couldn’t remember where it came from and that got me curious so I opened it up and dumped the contents onto my coffee table. I at once knew what it was. It was photos I brought back from my mothers a couple of years before when I visited her on thanksgiving of that year.

I remember my thoughts at the time; I wanted those photos for safekeeping.  I wanted to keep those memories under my protection to have a record of my past. A marker of where I came from, and to remember my life in an earlier time. In that manila envelop were many memories from my past growing up as a young man in Detroit. There were pictures of my sister Yolanda and myself all dressed up in our very best Easter outfits with bright happy smiles. There was the black and white photo of my young mother looking beautiful and seductive in a white mini dress. She couldn’t have been more than twenty-five when it was taken. I smiled as I picked up a picture of my baby sister Janelle looking cute as a button in one of those elementary school photos. I thought damn how we’ve all changed over the years.

Each picture brought with it a flood of memories of a time long ago. One picture in particular stood out to me  because who was in it.  A Polaroid photo of a beautiful young woman in the prime of her life. Her name was Klotiel.  She was my stepfathers niece.  Klotiel to me was a walking, talking, angel that lived among us. She had a down to earth personality and brightened any room she entered.

She always had a kind word for everyone she spoke with.  And she called me her little brother and love to shower my face with  kisses that warmed my young soul. I always thought she was so beautiful and I secretly had a massive crush on her at the time. Unfortunately, Klotiel was murdered by a jealous husband who decided if he couldn’t control this vivacious, beautiful woman he would kill her instead. That one act of jealous rage destroyed many lives that day. One of which was her young daughter (we called her shemie) that was left behind to morn her loss. When I got the news I was devastated.  As I write this, I’m looking at her beautiful face with the captivating smile wondering what her life could have been like. How many lives she could have touched. How much good will she could have spread throughout this cold world.

The picture itself is just a moment frozen in time. She’s lying across a bed, smiling innocently up at the camera. There was no way she could have known what her destiny held. Or how long she would have to live. But the short time she walked this earth,  she touched so many lives.  I know she touched mine.

It’s a sad Irony but as it has been said the good die young and the wicked live forever.

To me I will always remember Klotiel’s beautiful smile and the way she made everyone around her feel. She was a bright light that enveloped everyone in its warm glow. A light that was extinguished much to soon.