Devonte Hart endured Halloween all-year round until the demons got him

Why Halloween Is An All-Year Horror For Black Children

Halloween is almost here, and this year, the excitement is out of reach, as I contemplate the horror show that has become a 24/7 entertainment center for White viewers who are logged under the banner of Trump’s America.

Black children who are stuck in this ailing nation, don’t have to wait until the last day of October to be frightened out of their minds.

White adults are providing graphic freak shows for free, and the star attractions are unwilling cast members who don’t deserve to be on the receiving of angry White people, who can’t seem to enjoy the victory of their White supremacist leader long enough to discipline their wildly bigoted tendencies.

The White monsters are everywhere and no place is off limits, even the goddamn park where a twelve-year-old boy named Tamir Rice was gunned down in cold-blood for the crime of playing with a toy gun.

Then we have a precious little Black girl who barely knows her ABCs — stuck in the back seat of a car that contains the bullet-ridden body of her guardian and mother’s boyfriend, who was murdered by a White cop in full view of a child, who will never forget the dying groans of the Black man she never got to know.

There’s an energetic Black teenager, who got caught up in a hectic situation that required police presence, and their arrival was a sign of doom, that propelled the need for a quick escape. He immediately started running away, because he was already living the terrifying existence of being a rampant target of brutality at the hands of White men in uniform — stationed at his high school.

He didn’t make it very far before he was struck by three bullets that pummeled his back and killed him before he hit the ground. The White cop who fired the shots was a rookie, who had been trained to obey the mandate of “shoot to kill,” when it comes to anyone with darker skin.

High schools that contain predominately Black students are being terrorized by White police officers, who patrol classrooms and airy corridors, in search of Black bodies to victimize. This horrendous practice is standard procedure, and school officials are helpless when it comes to investigating the traumatic ways in which impressionable Black boys and Black girls are systemically manhandled by cowards with badges — who falsely take the oath to “protect and serve.”

When it comes to Black children — White adults are determined to unleash unnecessary evil by terrorizing these poor souls with real life nightmarish shit, that the scariest movies in the vault of classics can’t possible measure up to,

Imagine the bone-chilling premise for Nightmare in Rochester Hills, that captures the real life horror of a teenage Black boy, who gets lost while trying to get to school, after missing his school bus. He wanders around an unfamiliar neighborhood and decides to ask for directions. He approaches a house and hesitantly knocks on the front door. A disheveled White woman answers the door and when she sees who it is, she lets out a loud scream.

Her husband, a burly White man promptly appears by her side, carrying a large gun and proceeds to aim it at the Black boy who didn’t have enough time to explain his predicament — because his innocent plea for help swiftly turned into a life-threatening emergency.

Shots are fired, and thankfully misses the target, and the teenager is able to hide and pray for his life until his rescue.

But what if he had been killed?

What if the angry White man with a gun had succeeded in justifying the murder of Brennan Walker with the outright lie of how he was protecting his home from a potential intruder — who had scared the Whiteness out of his hysterical wife?

The fourteen-year-old Black boy survived his harrowing ordeal, and the justice of his attacker being charged with “attempted murder and use of a firearm in a felony,” that could result in life imprisonment, sounds like victory, but that would be a very naive assumption.

The aftermath of almost being killed by a White stranger who was supposed to lend a helping hand in a time of need, will haunt that boy for the rest of his life. He will carry that pain and fear always, and the trauma of barely surviving those gun shots will manifest in unexpected ways.

Brennan Walker will never be the person he was before he missed that school bus.

Black pain and the “wokeness” of over-zealous publications to capture the footage for the benefit of profitable circulation is now the valued currency of the media.

We gawk at the videos of White people calling the cops on Black men, who are sitting in a Starbucks, waiting for their appointment to arrive. We increase the volume in order to clearly hear the White woman expressing her fear for the White kids in a car being driven by a Black man, who she swears is endangering them.

But when it comes to Black children and how a White woman can callously call the cops on an eight-year-old Black girl after harassing her for not having “a permit” for the water she’s selling on a hot summer day — that’s when all bets are off.

It’s abominable to live in a society that bequeaths White people with the power to turn ordinary situations into the horror flick of their choosing for the thrill of it. And to have police officers acting as idiotic props, as they arrive on the scene and pretend as if what’s unfolding makes sense — only gives this tragically enhanced narrative more steam to expand and thrive.

The latest fiasco involves the evilness of a White woman who turned a Brooklyn bodega into a horror house with her blatantly inappropriate accusation, directed at a nine-year-old Black child, who was shopping with his mother and sister and happened to pass by the “victim” — with his backpack slightly touching her as he exited.

A surveillance video illustrates this fact, but before it was released, all hell broke loose, as the woman dubbed “Cornerstone Caroline,” became unhinged and lost her shit, as she hurled insults and threats at the Black family — and proceeded to call the cops to report her sexual assault at the hands of a nine-year-old boy, who she claimed “grabbed her butt.”

There are no words to describe the level of inhumanness that’s required for a grown adult to purposely traumatize a child, with the satisfaction of witnessing how her toxicity is exacting emotional duress in ways that will prove irrevocable.

Watching the terrified boy crying with fear and confusion, filled me with the kind of rage that shouldn’t be shared, because all I wanted to do was kick his tormentor repeatedly, until her lips turn a brilliant blue. I became consumed with recollections of all the times White women had rudely inserted themselves in my space — and how invasively offensive it was to endure that treatment and still take the high road.

And just when things couldn’t get any worse, “Cornerstone Caroline” eventually backed down after viewing the damning footage that blew her nonsensical complaint to bits, but instead of apologizing profusely to the mother of the accused, she said this:

Apparently the White woman who called the cops on a Black child for an offense that never happened and would never happen, has already demonstrated her bigoted views to her neighbors who have attested to her bullish behavior towards non-White occupants in her building.

As a grown adult who is still haunted by the relatively painless episodes that featured White women daring to order me around in a space that they probably felt was too good for someone who looks like me, and therefore tried to school me on how to be civilized enough to rightfully belong — I can’t fathom how an innocent Black boy, who was emotionally abused by a White witch will be able to sleep through the night — ever again.

And we never consider the permanently wounded hearts of the siblings who helplessly watch their their brothers either bleeding to death from a gun shot wound to the gut, or get verbally abused by a ratchet White woman with no soul.

Black kids are regarded as fully grown by White grown ups, who ignorantly rely on that lazy mindset as the incentive to be aggressively forceful in their actions.

They shoot at will in a pathetic bid to save their miserable lives from fictional threats or shamelessly declare their victimhood at the hands of a mere child who would rather eat a bucket of brussels sprouts than touch a body part attached to a grotesque monster.

Or they make the decision to center themselves in a Stephen King bestseller with the ammunition of White privilege and the righteous audacity — that gives the system the nonchalance of gifting vulnerable Black children to mentally unfit White adoptive parents — who are really demons with invisible horns and killer instincts.

We can’t continue to allow our children to be exposed to the harmful effects of heartless White adults, who have no issue reducing them to pebbled rubble — that can be easily stomped on — with little or no consequences.

This hostile climate gives the Black children of America, permission to opt out of the blissful tradition of choosing a costume for Halloween until further notice, because #livingwhileblack is a frightening enough reality — all year round.

And since the tickets to these shows are a viral feat, why don’t we start fining White people, who are armed with over-priced gadgets as weaponry, and the dangerous dispositions to boot — each time they’re inspired by the fervent need to indulge in improvisational casting with a deadly twist.

The piled up dough can be used as college funds for terrorized Black children, who survived the worst and grew up to be the best they can be in a society that rewarded them accordingly.

That’s the aptly defined aura of justice.

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