Crystal Williams was only twenty-two years old when she decided she wanted out.
Out of a relationship that no longer felt safe.
Out of a life that had begun to shrink instead of grow.
She had lived with her ex-boyfriend, Justin Deion Turner, for just about two months.
Two months is not a long time, but it can be long enough for fear to take root.
Long enough for someone to realize that love has turned into control.
Crystal made a choice that many people underestimate the courage it requires.
She chose to leave.
She chose to go home.
Her family believes that choice ultimately cost Crystal and her mother their lives.
On September 6, 2020, the day did not begin with violence written into it.
It began like many other days, with movement, plans, and the hope of getting away safely.
Crystal was with her mother, Danyel Sims, a woman who had spent her life holding her family together.
They were leaving an apartment complex in Dunwoody, Georgia.
Crystal’s younger brother, Malachi, was in the vehicle with them.
Another teenager was crouched in the backseat, quiet, hoping to stay unnoticed.
They were supposed to be driving away.
Supposed to be heading toward safety.
Supposed to be putting distance between Crystal and the man she was trying to escape.
Instead, their SUV was blocked.
Justin Deion Turner pulled in front of them.
The exit disappeared in an instant.
What should have been a simple drive turned into a trap.
There was no argument long enough to explain what came next.
No chance to talk things down.
No opportunity to reverse what was about to happen.
Turner opened fire.
Bullets shattered the moment.
Glass, metal, and flesh absorbed the violence meant to dominate.
In seconds, lives were torn apart in a space no larger than a parking lot.
Crystal Williams was killed.
Her mother, Danyel Sims, was killed.
Malachi, just eighteen years old, was seriously injured but survived.
The teenager in the backseat was not physically harmed.
But no one leaves a moment like that untouched.
Some wounds never bleed.
Police later confirmed what the family already knew in their hearts.
Crystal had been trying to get away.
She had been trying to go home with her mother.
This was not a confrontation she sought.
It was an escape attempt that was cut short.
A future interrupted by someone who refused to let go.
In the chaos, Danyel did something that defined who she was.
She used her body as a shield.
She placed herself between gunfire and her children.
It was instinct.
It was love.
It was the kind of courage that does not pause to calculate risk.
Malachi would later share that moment with the world.
He spoke of how his mother tried to protect them.
How she moved without hesitation, knowing exactly what she was doing.
Danyel Sims was forty-six years old.
She was a wife, a mother, and the emotional anchor of her family.
She was known for greeting each day with a smile.
Her husband, Crystal and Malachi’s stepfather, spoke of a life split in two.
Before Danyel.
And after her.
He said she was the one who kept everyone together.
The one who smoothed over arguments and reminded people they belonged to each other.
The kind of woman whose absence leaves rooms unnaturally quiet.
For Crystal, life had barely begun.
At twenty-two, she was still figuring out who she wanted to be.
Still learning what she would and would not accept.
Leaving a relationship is often framed as simple.
Just pack up and go.
Just walk away.
But those who understand know it is often the most dangerous moment of all.
Control does not like to be challenged.
Possession does not like to be denied.
Crystal tried anyway.
She did what so many hope to do but fear doing.
She asked for help.
She went to her mother.
Danyel did not hesitate.
She showed up.
She stood beside her daughter, the way she always had.
And when danger arrived, she stood in front of it.
Malachi survived, but survival came at a cost that cannot be measured.
He lost his sister.
He lost his mother.
At eighteen, he was forced into a grief that will shape every version of his future.
He carries the memory of gunfire.
And the memory of a mother’s last act of love.
Justin Deion Turner was arrested.
He was charged with two counts of murder.
And aggravated assault for the injuries inflicted on Malachi.
The legal process will continue.
Courtrooms will speak in measured tones about evidence and intent.
But no sentence can restore what was taken that day.
Two women are gone.
A family is permanently altered.
And a young man must learn how to live with memories no teenager should have.
Violence like this leaves ripples far beyond those directly involved.
Friends replay conversations, wondering if they missed signs.
Communities ask why leaving is still so dangerous.
Crystal and Danyel’s story is not unique, and that is what makes it unbearable.
Too many women are harmed when they try to reclaim their lives.
Too many families bury daughters and mothers for choosing freedom.
And yet, this story must be told.
Not for spectacle.
But for remembrance.
Crystal Williams was deeply loved.
She mattered.
Her life was worth more than the fear that surrounded it at the end.
Danyel Sims was deeply loved.
She was the glue of her family.
And she died doing what she had always done—protecting her children.
When people say “thoughts and prayers,” it can feel inadequate.
But it is often the language of collective grief.
A way of saying: we see you, and we will not forget.
This family continues to grieve.
They grieve the birthdays that will not come.
The holidays that will never feel the same.
They grieve Crystal’s unfinished life.
And Danyel’s irreplaceable presence.
And they carry forward a truth written in blood and love.
That leaving should never be a death sentence.
And that a mother’s love can be the bravest force of all.