I was saying my prayers the other night after just watching “I’m a Killer” on Netflix, and I started thanking God that none of my blood relatives had ever been murdered, because I don’t know how I would deal with that.. Then I was scrolling through Netflix tonight and noticed they have a new documentary on “Who murdered Malcolm X” and I completely forgot we are related when I was saying my prayers last night. Even though I never knew him, it still makes me feel some type of way, knowing someone did in fact murder one of my blood relatives. 🙁