Losing Damon was like having the ground ripped out from under me. He was just 15, so full of life and potential, but he got mixed up with the wrong crowd. I remember the nights I’d warn him about the dangers of running with people who didn’t have his best interests at heart. I tried to keep him close, to make him see that he was more than the trouble he found himself in, but no matter how much I tried, the streets of Los Santos got their hold on him. He was a good kid at his core, but he was drawn to the fast life, the excitement—he didn’t realize how deadly it could be.

The night Damon died still feels like a nightmare. I got the call that there had been a high-speed chase through the city, that it ended in a shootout. My heart stopped when they said his name. Damon had been in that car, caught up in something I begged him to avoid. The details are still a blur, but I know he wasn’t alone in that car, and I can only imagine the fear and chaos of those final moments. I heard that he never had a chance to get out, that the gunfire was so intense that escape was impossible. My baby, my Damon, was gone just like that—taken away by a world I couldn’t protect him from.

Now all I have left are the memories of the boy I raised, the boy I loved. Every day, I wake up and think about what his life could have been if things had been different. If I had been able to reach him in time, to steer him away from the path that led to that night. There’s a hole in my heart that will never heal, knowing that Damon’s story ended in violence, that he never got to grow up and make a future for himself. I just hope, somehow, that he’s at peace now, away from the chaos that claimed him. Im just here to say what happend to my baby boy #lld

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