He Was Only Fourteen: A Mother’s Cry for Justice After Losing Her Son to a Stray Bullet. Hyn
It was supposed to be an ordinary evening.
Dinner was on the stove, the air smelled faintly of detergent, and laughter echoed faintly from upstairs—where 14-year-old Duwan Morgan sat in his room, controller in hand, lost in his favorite video game.
His mother, a woman who had learned to find small joys between bills, worries, and the chaos of raising three boys, smiled faintly when she heard him cheer.
He was competitive, playful, and always teasing his brothers.
That night, nothing felt unusual—until the sound shattered everything she knew.
A sudden crack.
Glass bursting.
A scream that wasn’t quite a scream—more like a gasp caught between disbelief and terror.
She dropped what she was doing and ran upstairs.
Her heart pounded as if it already knew.
When she pushed open the door, the sight before her would etch itself into her memory forever.
Blood.
So much blood.
Her son—her baby—was on the floor, his small hands trembling, his eyes wide with fear and confusion.
The bullet had come through the window—an uninvited, invisible force that turned their safe home into a nightmare.
She pressed her hands against the wound, whispering his name again and again, begging him to stay.
“Please, baby, hold on. Stay with me. Please.”
But his breathing grew shallow.
And then she watched the life leave him—his chest rising one last time before falling still.
In that moment, the world stopped.
There were no words.
No sound.
Only the pounding of her heart, the sting of disbelief, and the cold, unbearable truth—her child was gone.
The police came quickly.
Neighbors stood outside, whispering in disbelief.
Yellow tape went up around the home, a cruel banner marking tragedy.
Inside, everything was frozen in time—the game still paused on the screen, the controller smeared with blood, the air thick with grief.
The bullet had no name.
It came from nowhere and took everything.
Authorities later said it was a “stray bullet,” fired during a “shootout” nearby.
But to this mother, those words meant nothing.
No phrase, no report, could ever explain why her boy—an innocent child sitting in his room—was stolen from her that night.
His name was Duwan Morgan.
He was 14.
He loved music, video games, and making people laugh.
He dreamed of going to college, of one day hosting his own podcast, of sharing his voice with the world.
He never got the chance.
His aunt, Erica Davis, told reporters that her nephew had “a bright future ahead of him.”
She was right.
Everyone who knew Duwan described him as a light—funny, creative, full of energy.
He was the kind of kid who remembered birthdays, who hugged his friends tight, who told his mom he loved her before bed.
And now, his mother can’t sleep.
Every time she closes her eyes, she sees it again—the fear in his face, the way his body went limp, the way she screamed for help that never came.
“I’m not okay,” she wrote in a message days later.
“I can’t sleep very long. All I see is the shock and fear in my son’s face and the blood pouring out while I was trying to stop it.”
She says she’s hurt, angry, disgusted.
Sometimes she feels she failed him because she couldn’t save him.
Sometimes she wishes it had been her instead.
But she can’t give up.
She still has two sons who need her—boys who lost their brother, their best friend, the one who always made them laugh.
They were only a year apart.
They shared clothes, secrets, and dreams.
Now, one room in the house stays quiet.
One chair stays empty at the table.
And one mother carries a weight that words cannot describe.
The police investigation continues.
No arrests have been made.
No names released.
Just questions—and silence.
The family calls it a “senseless shootout.”
They’re right.
How can you make sense of something so cruel, so random, so devastating?
How do you explain to a mother that her son was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time—in his own home?
A GoFundMe was started in Duwan’s memory, filled with words of love and sorrow.
“Duwan was a vibrant, caring young man with a bright future ahead of him,” his family wrote.
They used the funds to cover funeral expenses, but what they really wanted—what every post and prayer asked for—was justice.
Justice for Duwan.
Justice for a child whose life was cut short by someone’s carelessness, someone’s violence, someone’s choice to pull a trigger without thought for the lives beyond their target.
Every night, his mother lights a candle beside his photo.
She talks to him softly.
Sometimes she apologizes, whispering, “I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.”
Other times, she just cries.
Her grief is heavy, but her love is heavier still.
And in that love lies the strength to keep going—for her other sons, for the memory of the boy she lost, and for the justice she refuses to stop fighting for.
The house is quiet now.
The window has been replaced, but the scar remains.
The game console sits untouched, a silent reminder of what was stolen in a single heartbeat.
Outside, life goes on.
Cars drive by.
Children laugh.
But inside those walls, time stands still.
The laughter that once filled the rooms now echoes only in memory.
Some nights, she steps outside and looks at the sky.
She imagines her boy there, free from pain, watching over them.
And she whispers the same words every time:
“I love you, baby. I miss you. Mama’s gonna make sure they remember your name.”
Justice for Duwan Morgan.
Forever fourteen.
Forever loved.
Forever missed.
13-Year-Old Bryan Ceja Killed in Multi-Vehicle Crash on 210 Freeway in Sylmar.5806
The holiday season in Sylmar, Los Angeles, was meant to be filled with joy, shopping trips, and family gatherings.
Streets were lined with twinkling lights, and the spirit of Christmas seemed to hang in the air like soft snow — even in the sun-soaked city. But for the Siordia and Ceja families, that warmth was shattered in an instant.
On a Sunday afternoon, December 2025, a routine Christmas shopping trip ended in unthinkable tragedy.
Thirteen-year-old Bryan Ceja, full of energy, curiosity, and an unmistakable love for sports, was killed in a
multi-vehicle crash on the 210 Freeway, a collision that closed the freeway for hours and left multiple families reeling.
Bryan’s stepfather, Alfredo Siordia, spoke about the heartbreak with a voice thick with grief. “An amazing kid. I’m the luckiest stepfather ever to have him in my life,” he said.
The words were simple, yet heavy — the weight of loss palpable in the quiet pauses between sentences.
The Boy Behind the Tragedy
Bryan Ceja was more than just a number in a police report. He was a
vibrant, athletic teenager, whose energy lit up every room he entered. Friends and family remember him as playful, curious, and always ready for a game of baseball, football, or anything that challenged his boundless energy.
“He was just this energetic kid, and wanted to play sports. That was mostly his thing,” Siordia explained, recalling the countless afternoons spent cheering Bryan on from the sidelines, whether in football scrimmages or weekend baseball games. “Sorry, baseball, football, you name it. He was just very athletic.”
His love for activity was matched only by his warmth and kindness.
Those who knew Bryan described him as a teenager who could brighten a room with a smile, a boy whose laughter was infectious, and whose presence demanded attention not for mischief, but for the warmth he brought to family and friends alike.
For Siordia, the stepfather who had entered Bryan’s life years earlier, the bond was unbreakable. He recalls how, despite the typical challenges of blending families, Bryan taught him lessons of love, patience, and joy.
“For him being a little kid, he taught me how to love as well, and just like, I really miss him,” Siordia said.
The Day That Changed Everything
On that fateful Sunday, Bryan and his mother were out Christmas shopping. The mood was one of excitement and anticipation — the final touches before the holidays.
Gifts were selected, lists were checked twice, and the pair likely shared laughter over candies and trinkets along the way.
But on the 210 Freeway, a routine drive turned into
a scene of chaos and horror. Multiple vehicles collided in what authorities later described as a violent chain-reaction crash.
Emergency services were called immediately, and first responders rushed to the scene.
For the Siordia family, the day that had begun with anticipation and joy ended in devastation.
Bryan did not survive the crash. His mother, severely injured, was transported to a nearby hospital, where she began a long road to recovery.
Miraculously, she survived, but the emotional scars and trauma from witnessing her son’s death are immeasurable.
The Aftermath: Grief and Healing
In the days following the accident, the community of Sylmar rallied around the family. Friends, neighbors, and schoolmates offered support, prayers, and gestures of kindness, but none could bridge the gap left by Bryan’s absence.
For Alfredo Siordia, the grieving process was deeply personal, yet public in a way he hadn’t anticipated. Every conversation, every memory recounted to reporters or friends, became a testament to the life of a boy gone too soon.
“I go inside his room and, you know, picture the times he was there, and it’s just not going to be the same,” Siordia admitted.
The bedroom, once alive with the sounds of a young teenager — laughter, music, the shuffle of sports gear — now stands as a silent monument to memory.
Grief, Siordia notes, is not linear. It is a cycle of memories, reminders, and raw emotions that surface at the least expected moments: a stray baseball rolling across a driveway, the sight of a football helmet, or even the simple act of setting the table for Christmas dinner.
A Community in Mourning
While the Siordia family bore the personal grief, the accident reverberated across Sylmar. Highway closures on the 210 Freeway affected countless drivers, but beyond the inconvenience, the tragedy became a symbol of fragility in everyday life.
Local schools held moments of silence. Teachers spoke to students about safety, the unpredictability of life, and the importance of cherishing loved ones.
Church congregations offered collective prayers, lighting candles for Bryan and others injured in the crash. Social media feeds overflowed with messages of condolence, remembering a life cut short and a community united in sorrow.
The Father-Stepfather Bond
Alfredo Siordia’s role as stepfather was not just about guidance or discipline. It was about shared experiences, mentorship, and mutual respect.
Despite the legal distinctions of family, Siordia speaks of Bryan as a son, a friend, and a companion through life’s small and significant moments. From simple breakfasts to weekend sports games, their relationship was rooted in genuine love and understanding.
“He was just an amazing kid, and he brought joy into our home,” Siordia said. “It’s a void I don’t think can ever be filled, but I carry him with me in every decision, every thought, every day.”
In the wake of such sudden loss, Siordia also underscores the fragility of life and the importance of cherishing time with loved ones. Each moment — a hug, a conversation, a shared laugh — becomes infinitely more precious when the future is uncertain.
Remembering Bryan: Legacy Beyond Tragedy
Though his life was brief, Bryan left an indelible mark on everyone who knew him. Friends remember his sense of humor, his athletic prowess, and the way he could rally teammates or classmates with a single word of encouragement.
Teachers recall a student attentive and engaged, with a spark of curiosity that extended beyond the classroom. For family members, Bryan represented the very essence of joy, energy, and love.
In memory of Bryan, community members have suggested establishing scholarships, sports programs, or memorial events that honor his life.
Each act of remembrance is not only a tribute to him but also a testament to the collective healing of those affected by the crash.
The Accident and Safety Conversations
While grief remains the central focus, the crash also sparked broader conversations about road safety, highway conditions, and driver awareness. Multi-vehicle collisions, particularly during busy holiday weekends, underscore the fragility of life on the road.
Authorities have urged drivers to exercise caution, reduce distractions, and maintain safe speeds, especially in congested areas.
The Sylmar crash, with its devastating consequences, serves as a cautionary tale for the entire Los Angeles area. Though nothing can reverse the tragedy, the hope is that lessons learned can prevent similar losses in the future.
Coping, Healing, and Moving Forward
The Siordia and Ceja families have leaned on faith, counseling, and community support as they navigate the impossible task of mourning a child.
While grief is ongoing, there are moments of comfort, such as sharing memories, recounting stories of Bryan’s accomplishments, and celebrating the life he lived, however brief.
Siordia has also emphasized the importance of holding onto love in the face of loss. “He taught me how to love,” he said. “I carry that with me, and I will keep his memory alive in everything I do.”
As the holiday season approaches, the pain is undeniably sharper, but it is also tempered with gratitude for having known such a remarkable young boy.
The balance of sorrow and remembrance forms a delicate tapestry of love and loss, one that will endure for years to come.
A Call to Cherish Life
Bryan Ceja’s story is, at its core, a reminder of life’s fragility and the enduring power of love.
In a world often taken for granted, the events on the 210 Freeway illustrate how quickly circumstances can change, how precious each moment truly is, and how a single life can leave a lasting impact.
From his athletic feats to the warmth he shared with family and friends, Bryan’s legacy continues.
Though he is no longer present physically, his spirit and influence remain, a guiding force for those who loved him and for the Sylmar community.
Moving Forward, Together
The road to healing is long and uneven. Yet in every conversation, every tear, and every memory, Bryan’s life inspires action, reflection, and connection.
Family members are committed to honoring him, friends are motivated to cherish every moment, and the community is reminded to protect the most vulnerable among us — especially children.
Through tragedy, Sylmar has been forced to confront the intertwined realities of life, loss, and love.
And while nothing can replace the young boy whose energy once filled rooms and fields, his presence endures in every memory and story shared.
Bryan Ceja may have been only 13, but the life he lived, the love he gave, and the joy he brought continue to resonate, shaping a community forever changed by loss and strengthened by remembrance.
