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MidReal Story
The Lewis Twins Case
Scenario:On Top of Bell Mountain: The disappearance and the unsolved murders of the 19year old black twin teen brothers, Qaadir Malik Lewis and Naazir Rahim Lewis from Lawrenceville, GA, a suburb of Atlanta, were discovered on March 8 around 90 miles away in Hiawassee, at the summit of Bell Mountain, close to the North Carolina border.
The teens had planned to fly to Boston to visit their friends on the morning of March 7, but 24 hours later, they were found dead in a remote part of the state they had never visited before, their family said. Both deaths have now been declared suicides, the Georgia Bureau of Investigation (GBI) announced in a statement, based on the results of the medical examiner’s autopsy and other investigative findings, their deaths have been ruled suicide-suicide. GBI agents have met with the Lewis family to share the findings,” the statement read.
Cellular location data from the pair’s phones established their movements from their home to Bell Mountain, the GBI said.
“In the video that corresponds to those locations, the Lewis brothers are seen alone,” the statement reads.
Only Naazir was seen traveling to the airport on March 7, but he never caught his flight and returned home, the GBI said. Qaadir did not have an airline ticket.
The ammunition used in the gun that fired the fatal shots was purchased by Naazir and arrived at his home on March 5, according to records seen by the GBI. Though the agency didn't specify how they obtained the weapon. Both brothers searched on their phones for how to load a gun, suicide rates in 2024 and other chilling related searches, according to internet history retrieved by the GBI.
The brothers concurrently fired the fatal shots, according to forensic evidence, and the injuries were self-inflicted, the GBI said following its investigation.
The investigation into their deaths is set to be formally closed in the coming weeks. A Hiawassee volunteer firefighter, Scott Kerlin, 42, has been formally charged with misdemeanor obstruction after allegedly taking photos of the twins’ death scene and sharing them publicly, the GBI said.
Investigators originally thought that the twins’ deaths could be a murder-suicide, although this theory was fiercely rejected by their family.
The family launched a GoFundMe to hire a private investigator to examine the case, after they dismissed the theory that the pair took their own lives. “My nephews wouldn’t do this! They came from a family of love, and the twins wanted so much for their future; they had dreams of starting their very own clothing line,” the twins’ aunt, Yasmine Brawner, wrote on the fundraising page.
“Something happened at Bell Mountain,” she added.
The family earlier called for further investigation as to how they ended up in such a remote area. “How did they end up out in the mountains? They don’t hike out there, they’ve never been out there. They don’t know anything about Hiawassee, Georgia. They never even heard of Bell Mountain, so how did they end up right there?” the boy’s uncle, Rahim Brawner, told 11Alive News.
The family did not respond immediately to requests for comment.
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Qaadir Malik Lewis
He is a 19yearold high school senior. He is adventurous, loyal, and determined. Qaadir and his twin brother, Naazir, planned to visit Boston to see their friends. They drove 90 miles to Bell Mountain, where they were found dead. Qaadir searched for how to load a gun on his phone. He loved hiking and enjoyed spending time with his family, who he loved dearly.
Naazir Rahim Lewis
He is a 19yearold high school senior and twin brother to Qaadir. He is intelligent, quiet, and reserved. Naazir purchased ammunition on March 5, which was found at his home. He was seen traveling to the airport alone on March 7. Naazir searched for how to load a gun on his phone. He enjoyed spending time with his family and loved his twin brother dearly.
Rahim Brawner
He is the uncle of Qaadir and Naazir Lewis and Yasmine’s brother. He is passionate, frustrated, and hopeful. Rahim struggled to accept that his nephews could have taken their own lives and questioned the circumstances of their deaths. He wanted justice for his twin brothers and pushed for further investigation into their mysterious deaths on Bell Mountain.
My name is Qaadir Malik Lewis.
I am 19 years old, a high school senior, and the twin brother of Naazir Rahim Lewis.
We are both black.
We are both intelligent.
And we are both dead.
On March 7, 2023, my twin brother and I planned to visit our friends in Boston.
The next morning, around 90 miles away, our bodies were found on Bell Mountain, close to the North Carolina border, in a part of Georgia we had never been to before.
Our family disputes that we took our own lives.
My twin brother purchased ammunition for the gun used to kill us.
I searched for how to load the gun on my phone.
My twin brother did the same.
Both of us searched for "suicide rates 2024" online.
The Georgia Bureau of Investigation (GBI) says we fired the fatal shots ourselves.
They have proof from forensic evidence that we did.
We fired the shots at the same time, which means we used both of our hands to pull the trigger on the gun that was pressed to our heads.
I sit in my aunt Yasmine’s living room and watch her pace back and forth, reading the GBI report aloud.
The words blur together.
Forensic evidence.
Concurrent shots.
Self-inflicted wounds.
My uncle Rahim slams his fist on the coffee table, rattling the family photos.
One falls, cracking the glass.
It’s from last Christmas, Naazir and me in matching sweaters.
I remember that day clearly.
But March 7 is a fog.
The GBI says we left home at 6:30 p.m. to drive to Bell Mountain.
I try to remember driving there, but all I see is Naazir leaving for the airport alone.
I reach for that memory, but it slips away like smoke when my aunt’s voice breaks.
"Qaadir, you know Naazir would never go anywhere without telling me first," Aunt Yasmine says, her voice trembling.
Uncle Rahim leans forward, his eyes intense. "And why would you search for 'suicide rates 2024' if you had no plans beyond March?"
I shake my head, frustration boiling over. "I don't remember searching that; it's like someone else was in control."
I drift through the living room, trying to piece together that final day.
A memory surfaces - driving north on I-85 toward the airport with my twin brother Naazir.
Rain streaks the windshield, blurring the world outside.
I slow down as I notice a figure standing on the shoulder, motionless.
They wear dark clothes and seem to stare directly at me as I pass.
My hands tremble on the steering wheel.
We never made it to the airport.
Instead, we turned west toward the mountains, though I can't remember why.
The figure's face flickers in my mind - familiar yet wrong, like looking in a warped mirror.
I sit in my car at the base of Bell Mountain, gripping the steering wheel as memories flood back.
The gravel crunches under my feet as I step out into the cold morning air.
Following the winding trail upward, I notice fresh tire tracks cutting through mud - they match the pattern from my own tires that final night.
My heart pounds as I reach the clearing where they found us.
Yellow police tape still flutters from a nearby tree. But I hear everybody saying there was never marked as a crime scene.
I spot something metallic glinting in the dirt and bend down to investigate, but a sharp crack of thunder makes me freeze.
My hands tremble as I kneel in the wet dirt, reaching for the glint of metal partially buried beneath fallen pine needles.
The key is small, about two inches long, with a decorative head showing what looks like a mountain peak enclosed in a circle.
Dark rust coats most of its surface, but I can make out faint numbers etched into the shaft: 0308.
The date we died.
Behind me, branches snap as someone approaches through the woods.
I quickly pocket the key and stand, my muddy fingers leaving traces on my jeans.
"Qaadir, you shouldn't be here," a voice calls out, and I recognize it immediately—it's Detective Harris.
I turn to face him, trying to keep my expression neutral. "Detective, why wasn't this place marked as a crime scene if there was evidence of foul play?"
He hesitates, glancing at the police tape fluttering in the breeze. "Because someone higher up didn't want it to be."
He takes a step back, his hand instinctively moving to his holster.
"You need to understand the politics here," he says, his voice low.
I follow his gaze over his shoulder to his patrol car parked at the base of the mountain.
Something catches my eye through the windshield - a folder with "Chief Thompson" printed on it.
The same Chief Thompson who was first on scene that night, according to the report.
His radio crackles with static, making him jump.
"Look, there are powerful people who don't want attention drawn to Bell Mountain," he continues, lowering his voice even more.
"The Chief has... investments up here."
I nod slowly, understanding that the truth is buried deeper than any grave.
I follow Harris across the muddy clearing, keeping a safe distance as his boots crunch on wet gravel.
The key feels heavy in my pocket.
At his patrol car, he glances around cautiously before pulling out the "Chief Thompson" folder.
Inside, I find photos of construction plans for Bell Mountain - luxury homes and a resort complex.
Harris points to Thompson's signature on permit applications dated weeks before our deaths.
His hand trembles as he shows me surveillance footage from that night, a black SUV following our car up the mountain.
I watch from behind a tree as Harris hurries to his car, the folder clutched against his chest.
A woman in her thirties, dressed in a long coat and carrying a large purse, rushes toward him.
She holds up a press badge.
"Sarah Chen, Atlanta Chronicle," she says firmly.
"Can I ask you a few questions?"
Harris tries to brush past her, but she blocks his path.
"I've been tracking Thompson's real estate deals. Those twins' deaths weren't random."
My heart pounds as she mentions finding irregularities in the mountain's property records.
Harris glances around nervously before leaning closer to her.
"I can't talk here," he whispers.
She hands him her card, then turns and walks toward the spot where I'm hiding behind the tree.
I step out from behind the tree, making her jump.
She recovers quickly, her sharp eyes studying me as I approach.
The key feels heavy in my pocket.
"You were listening," she says, her voice steady.
I nod, not wanting to reveal too much.
She pulls out her phone and shows me photos of construction equipment hidden under tarps near the base of Bell Mountain.
I recognize the company logo - Thompson Development LLC.
"I've been investigating Chief Thompson for months," she explains.
"He's been quietly buying up properties around the mountain. And these aren't the only irregularities."
She scrolls through more photos, showing me land deeds and permits with Thompson's name on them.
"The twins' deaths are just the tip of the iceberg."
I stare at the images, piecing together the truth.
Thompson wasn't just a corrupt cop; he was involved in something much bigger.
"And you think it's connected to that night?" she asks, glancing back at Harris's retreating figure.
I nod again, not wanting to betray Harris's trust but needing to know more.
"I've been interviewing other officers who were on scene that night," she continues, her voice filled with determination.
"They all have different stories. Something isn't adding up."
Suddenly, distant engine sounds make us both turn toward the access road leading up Bell Mountain.