On May 25th of this year George Floyd entered a convenience store and attempted to pay with a counterfeit bill, these are the events that happened subsequently in chronological order. Police were called to the scene and 17 minutes later he was pinned down by three officers, losing consciousness. The officers took advantage of their power and made unnecessary use of force by kneeling on his neck for 8 consecutive minutes while he shouted "I can't breathe!". The vile use of force was unnecessary because George was already in restraints and posed no threat to the officer's safety in any way. George was taken to hospital and later died of asphyxiation. The definition of asphyxiation is killing (someone) by depriving them of air. George Floyd was not the first case of police brutality and he certainly won't be the last. After his death was scrutinized and spread all over the news, it lit a fire in people's hearts, a levee broke, and waves of protesters flooded every city in America. The people throw an indictment over the heads of the officers and will not back down until they believe justice has been done. I want to see an end to police brutality for the innocent lives that are taken, for the families who are terrified for their safety, and to strengthen the county as one. Say no to plagiarism. Get a tailor-made essay on "Why Violent Video Games Shouldn't Be Banned"? Get an original essay On June 2, near the brink of the plague we call Covid-19, I attended a Black Lives Matter protest in downtown Houston over the death of George Floyd. I watched the video of his death broadcast on the news and was immersed in a state of shock. It seemed as if the edifice of America was collapsing. Completely devoid of unity. It gave me a sick feeling deep in my stomach that I couldn't shake. Anger was the next thing I felt, but I wasn't sure what to do with it. Then, late at night on June 1, I saw a post George's family made about a protest downtown at Discovery Green park. I shared it with my friends because activism trembled throughout my body. We made the decision, driven by passion, to join the protest which took place in less than 9 hours. I woke up too early for my own good, packed my bags, and left without saying a word to my mother. I knew he would have some thoughts about my last minute idea and I didn't want anything to stop the fight growing inside me. When we stopped I began to see large numbers of people swinging in the streets. “George Floyd!” it bounced off the buildings and rang in my ears as 70,000 people screamed his name. It was nice to hear and relieving to know that all these people felt the same emotions as me. In that swarm of people I saw unity, strangers helping each other in every way possible, whether helping each other park and find their way, or incurring expenses for carts full of water and splashing around providing it to anyone who needed hydration, and every single person wore a mask out of respect for mutual safety. When the protest died down, I was navigating the crowd and came across these women. I saw them cry and shout with their hearts pierced: “Stop killing our children!, Stop killing our children!”. I was stunned after seeing all this happen right in front of me. I hate that they were terrified for their family's safety and that it's something they're forced to worry about every second of their lives, even when they're just trying to purchase items from a convenience store. I think about those a lot.