It was an ordinary October morning in Monroe, Louisiana — sunlight spilling softly through thin curtains, the world outside just beginning to wake. Inside a small home filled with laughter and love, a father and his little girl were starting what seemed like any other day.

But that morning would become one that no one in the community would ever forget.

Jaborris Simpson, only twenty-five years old, was a young father with an old soul. To those who knew him, he was quiet yet full of warmth — the kind of man who didn’t need many words to express love. His affection for his two-year-old daughter, Jhersi Rhyiana Simpson, was something everyone could see.

Wherever they went, their bond was undeniable — her tiny hand always in his, her laughter echoing around him like sunlight made sound. To Jaborris, little Jhersi wasn’t just his daughter. She was his heart walking outside his body.

But on that October morning, the laughter they shared slowly faded into silence.

Following an earlier altercation, a man named Travis Payton, twenty-four, followed them home. What should have been a safe space — their sanctuary — turned into the site of unimaginable tragedy.

By the time authorities arrived, Jaborris, his daughter Jhersi, and their friend Jamal Bosley, twenty-seven, were gone — victims of senseless violence that shattered the peace of an entire neighborhood.

No one could fully grasp what had happened inside that small house. Yet those who knew Jaborris could imagine the scene — a father’s final instinct to protect, a child’s innocent trust, and a friend caught in the storm.

Where music, laughter, and bedtime giggles once lived, there was now stillness — broken only by the weight of memory and grief.

Jaborris had always been the kind of father who led with love, not words. He worked hard, smiled easily, and gave everything he had to make life bright for his little girl.

Their days were simple but full — dancing to cartoon songs, chasing each other across the living room, or singing silly tunes before bedtime. He made sure she knew one thing above all else: you are loved, more than anything in this world.

And then there was little Jhersi.

Born on March 25, 2023, at 8:31 p.m. in Arlington, Texas, she came into the world like a burst of sunlight — pure joy wrapped in curls and laughter. Everyone who met her felt it instantly: the energy, the sparkle, the life.

She loved Minnie Mouse, Bluey, and anything that played cheerful music. She would twirl around in circles, pretending to perform on her tiny “stage,” her giggles echoing like music that could melt even the hardest hearts.

Her favorite foods were the simplest — cheese pizza and French fries — and she never hesitated to share a bite with anyone lucky enough to sit beside her.

And she adored mimicking her mom, Tab’Brea Blackson, with her little makeup kit, pretending to put on lipstick while smiling at her reflection. She was a picture of innocence, imagination, and unfiltered love.

For Jaborris and Tab’Brea, life wasn’t easy. But love made everything possible. Their little girl gave every challenge meaning, every hardship purpose. Together, they built a home not out of wealth, but out of laughter, care, and unwavering devotion.

Now, that home stands quieter — but filled with memories that will never fade.

Family and friends gathered to mourn not just the loss of life, but the loss of light. They spoke not only of how Jhersi and Jaborris left this world, but how they lived in it — joyfully, gently, and with love that reached everyone they touched.

Tab’Brea remembers the mornings filled with giggles, the soft “Mommy” before bedtime, the little arms that wrapped around her neck like they were made to fit there.

Every day since has been a delicate dance between heartbreak and gratitude — heartbreak for the moments that ended too soon, and gratitude for every single one they got to share.

For Monica Simpson, Jaborris’s mother, memories of her son come flooding back — the scraped knees, the soccer games, the endless laughter that once filled her home.

Now, she hears echoes of both her son and granddaughter — two voices intertwined forever, their love eternal, their spirits inseparable.

The pain radiates far beyond immediate family. Grandparents, great-grandparents, uncles, aunts, cousins — each carries a piece of Jhersi’s joy in their hearts.

Names spoken through tears — Tabbie Blackson, Jonathan Smith, Jermaine Martin, Shirley Higgins, John Blackson, and Gladys Simpson — each person holding a memory, a story, a spark of her light that will never go out.

Though she was only two, Jhersi understood love more deeply than many adults ever do.

She hugged without hesitation, laughed without fear, and gave love without conditions. She was the kind of child whose presence could quiet sorrow and remind everyone around her that joy doesn’t have to be grand to be powerful.

And her father, Jaborris, was the kind of man who showed what true devotion looked like. His love for her was steady, proud, and limitless.

Every photo of him holding her tells the same story — of a man at peace, content simply because his little girl was in his arms.

As candles are lit and prayers are whispered, the community gathers again — to remember, to cry, and to celebrate the love that even tragedy couldn’t destroy.

They remember Jhersi’s laughter, Jaborris’s warmth, and Jamal’s friendship — three lives that ended too soon but left behind echoes that will never fade.

Justice may be served one day. But no verdict, no sentence, no apology can ever restore what was lost.

What remains, instead, is love — the kind of love that doesn’t die, even when the people who carried it are gone.

In the quiet hours of the night, when grief feels unbearable, those who loved them close their eyes and imagine it differently.

They see Jhersi again — barefoot, twirling in a garden of golden light, her laughter dancing through the air. Her tiny hand reaches for her father’s, and he bends down with that same familiar smile.

She looks up at him, her eyes full of mischief and love. He smiles back, as he did every day on Earth.

And in that eternal moment, they are together — free from pain, surrounded by peace.

Their light, though gone from this world, still burns in the hearts of those who remain.

Because love like theirs doesn’t fade. It transforms. It reminds us of what matters most — presence, compassion, connection.

Jaborris Simpson and his precious daughter, Jhersi Rhyiana Simpson — loved deeply, remembered always.

Forever bound by a love that not even death could break.