The Dead Girls
Kabira “Brittany” Rojas, 19, and Nikki Silas, 20, danced at Show World, shared an apartment, dreamed of making it big. Then they were murdered.
Kabira “Brittany” Rojas, 19, and Nikki Silas, 20, danced at Show World, shared an apartment, dreamed of making it big. Then they were murdered.
I met her in a San Francisco bar—a big, straw-blond girl with a baseball cap jerked backward on her head, wearing a flight jacket and red braces, her blue eyes lined in black. Looking like the girl who crashed the boys’ clubhouse. Liz B. is a white power skinhead, a recruiter for the American Front, a self-described “white supremacist feminist”—and the most self-assured 22-year-old I’ve ever met.
Guillermo just lies there. Collects his phlegm in little paper cups. He hardly gets out of bed and when he does, he often gets back in with his shoes on. He’s turning into a stick man and spooking all the guys in the Rikers Island AIDS ward.
On Thursday, when I arrived in Bensonhurst, neighborhood people, cops, and reporters were milling on the corner where, the previous evening, Yusef Hawkins had been shot and killed by a crowd of neighborhood boys.
Patty rests fitfully in a hallway, the plastic bag with her and her sister Michelle’s clothes nearby. “I hate it when she falls asleep,” Michelle says. “Everybody goes through our stuff.” Patty’s tired. Patty’s “sick.” “She can’t go out,” Michelle says. “I’m gonna have to do it all now. Help her through the night.”