My name is Angel Nieves. I was born on June 9, 2003, in Springfield, MA. I was shot on January 13, 2025, and on January 14, 2025, I was pronounced dead. I am my mother’s second child but her firstborn son. My mother had a total of eight kids: my eldest sister Kiki, me, my sister Asia, my sister Emanii, my brother Kayden, my sister Trinity, my sister Sophia, and my baby sister Serenity.
Since entering the world, I have always taken on the responsibility of making sure all my siblings were safe. My mother would always remind me that I wasn’t the dad of the house, but she never understood the responsibility of being the eldest son. It was in me to protect my siblings and even her.
We never had a father figure in the house, so you know I took on that role, and I loved every moment of it. I’d barge into my siblings’ rooms whenever I wanted, just to make them laugh — and trust me, we had a ball.
My mother and I had a unique relationship. When she was upset, she would scream my entire name: “Angel Rafael Nieves!” But when she was calm, she would call me by my last name, “Nieves.” We were very close for most of my life, but as a teen, I really made her life impossible. Still, no matter how much I pushed her away, she never gave up on me.
As a child, I would have her come to the basketball court to shoot some hoops, then tease her when she couldn’t get the ball in. Man, I really loved my mom, and she loved me. We were poor, but we never lacked love.
I loved sports, and as soon as I hit middle school, my mom signed me up for Pop Warner. I was great at it, and I made good friends. We had big dreams of going off to play in the big leagues. Even if I wasn’t as tall as everyone else, I was going to try my best.
Unfortunately, the year I started high school, I began hanging out with the wrong group of friends. This caused a lot of issues at home, but I was stubborn and kept following that group. I even had a girlfriend who was just as bad as my guy friends. I got kicked out of school, and by the time I was 17, I was behind bars.
I broke my mother’s heart, and I gave up on a better life. College dreams went out the window. Even though she was upset, she prayed for me and never left my side. We rebuilt our relationship over the phone, and I appreciated that. I made sure to tell her every chance I got.
When I was released, I messed up again and went right back to the same group of friends. My mother, disappointed again, gave me an ultimatum — and I chose my friends. Six months later, I called her asking for forgiveness. I told her I needed help, and she came to get me with no questions asked. As soon as I got home, she drove me around to find a job. We applied everywhere in person, and when we got home, we applied online. She helped me sign up for school and everything.
We had many conversations about the future, and she kept telling me about God and how happy she was that I was finally listening. Then I got the call: “You’re hired.” I was so happy because it’s hard to find a job when you don’t have an education, but my mother believed I was capable of anything. I can’t lie — it felt good to be back home. I loved standing at her door, asking her questions about life and sharing my fears and burdens.
The night I was shot, I had just been home. My ex-girlfriend from high school called me, and I decided to go visit her. I was bored, and I didn’t work until the next afternoon. She lived down the street, and I told my mother I’d see her the following day. I don’t remember what happened at my ex’s house, but around eleven I texted Kayden that I was heading home. His birthday was at midnight — he was turning 17 — so maybe I just wanted to rush home to be the first to say Happy Birthday.
Unfortunately, I didn’t make it. As I was walking down a street I had walked most of my life — going to football practice, trick‑or‑treating, or just hanging with friends — I was shot 15 times. I was rushed to the hospital, but at 12:04 a.m., I was pronounced dead. The same group of friends my mother begged me to stay away from took my life and my dreams away.
My case remains unsolved, even though my family knows who caused my death. I will miss my family deeply, and I know my family misses me. They deserve justice — real justice — for the life that was taken from them.
My beloved son Angel Nieves — you were a light, a soldier, and an amazing human being. We miss you dearly.
Posted September 2026