Slain teen Antwon Rose II led a life divided

While Antwon could slack off at times, he knew how to grind, Mian said. Outside of school, Antwon was often either volunteering or at work, sometimes putting in full-day shifts at Domino’s.

“He was a hard worker, better than anyone,” Mian said. “He was still in school, sleeping and tired, but he worked his ass off and was still able to manage school and everything else.”

After late nights, Antwon sometimes darted into the kitchen to make chicken or pizza or chocolate chip cookies into the early hours of the morning. His signature move: leaving a countertop full of dirty dishes.

Ms. Kenney said she made a habit of telling Antwon how much she loved him, that she would do anything for him, that he could be anything he wanted to be. He would lie on her shoulder and say, ‘I know, Mom.’ She wondered if he really knew.

Two days before Antwon’s death, he and Ms. Kenney were relaxing on separate ends of the couch, Antwon’s feet near her face.

“I’m just like, ‘Do you realize how much I love you? I’m letting you put your feet in my face,’” Ms. Kenney said. “And he was laughing, and he just kept saying, ‘I know, Mom.’” •••

On the last day of his life, Antwon and his mom followed their normal routine. In the morning, she asked him to get her a cup of sweetened iced tea, as usual. And Ms. Kenney checked in with him several times that day, badgering him to wear shorts instead of pants because it was hot outside.

Ms. Kenney, a self-described worrier, called Antwon every 45 minutes or so whenever he was at work or with friends. He’d normally respond within a few minutes.

“I know where we live at,” she said. “I know the environment that we’re in. I know the world that we’re in, so I worry.”

Antwon left home that day sometime between 6 and 7 p.m. By 9, Ms. Kenney was calling and he wasn’t answering. She called so much she started getting a busy signal.

“I waited on the porch for him to come home,” she said.

The video of Antwon’s death had already begun to spread on social media when Tre and several friends walked into a movie theater — they just didn’t realize yet that it was Antwon. When they found out, they rushed to the hospital, where they stayed until 2:30 a.m.

“We were just in shock and couldn’t handle it,” Tre said. “We didn’t want to leave him. We wanted to know, was there someone there when he had his last words?”

Last month, several hundred mourners gathered at Woodland Hills Intermediate for Antwon’s funeral. Tre and Mian both shared memories of Antwon. After the funeral, his friends gathered for a bonfire to celebrate his spirit. And on Thursday, family and friends gathered to celebrate what would have been his 18th birthday.

“It’s really hard,” Ms. Kenney said. “I really miss my baby. Antwon was my everything, my everything.”

He’s buried in a McKeesport cemetery, six miles from his home.