Boy, 16, fatally shot visiting friends in Brooklyn 90 minutes after texting protective mom

A 16-year-old boy was visiting friends in Brooklyn when he was shot dead 90 minutes after texting his protective mother, the Daily News has learned.

Tyson “TJ” Harps Jr. was shot in the head in front of an apartment building on Eastern Parkway near Rochester Ave. in Crown Heights about 8:45 p.m. Saturday, cops said.

“I feel like my soul is gone,” said his 38-year-old mother, who asked not to be named out of fear for her family’s safety in the wake of the unsolved slaying. “I’m so numb and I just keep crying and lying in his bed.”

The victim lived in the Bronx. On Saturday, he “asked to go see his friends just to get away because I kept him in for Halloween,” his mother explained. “I said, ‘Are you staying out?’ Because he normally stays with his godbrother (when visiting Brooklyn). And he said, ‘No, ma, I’ll be home.’”

“I asked him to check in every other hour, just let me know that he’s okay,” she added.  “At 7:21 (p.m.) we texted each other and he was like, ‘Ma, I’m good.” I said, ‘You got to your location yet?’ He said, ‘Yeah, Ma.’”

Less than 90 minutes later, Tyson was shot. Police have not established a motive but say Tyson had no criminal history.

“To receive a phone call when it happened, I don’t know how to express it,” his mother said through tears. “Why my son? Because he wanted to come home. Why he can’t come home?”

Tyson’s mother raced to the scene after getting the call that her son had been shot. His body was behind police tape still on the ground under a sheet. Cops recovered nine shell casings from the scene.

“They didn’t remove my son until four hours later,” she said. “I think I handled it fairly well as a mom not knowing what was going on. But my heart left my body. My soul has not returned.”

Cops are looking for a masked male suspect who was wearing a black jacket, gray sweatpants and white sneakers.

“I don’t know what happened to my son. I don’t know who knows what,” Tyson’s mother said. “I used to see stories of people losing their kids and I would feel so bad. I would go to my son, ‘I don’t know what I would do if that was me.’ And it is me.”

Tyson’s mother later had to identify her son’s body in the morgue for authorities.

“I was hoping it was a bad nightmare,” she said, breaking down in tears. “I was hoping that it was somebody else and just not mine. And to go and view (him) gave me clarity that I am no longer in a nightmare and my baby is no longer here with me and that I really have to bury my son who didn’t even get to graduate high school.”

She has launched a GoFundMe to help pay for her son’s memorial services.

“I’m still trying to figure out how to bury my son,” she added. “We never discussed if God forbid something happens. Did he want to be cremated? Did he want to be buried? Would he like me to be able to walk to him and lay flowers? I don’t even know what to do at this point. But I know I don’t want to let go.”

Tyson took good care of his siblings, she said.

“He felt like he had to be a protector being the oldest,” she said. “If I was sick … he’ll cook the food … He took over the house. ‘Mama don’t feel well. Go lay down. Go watch TV. Rest.’”

“He’s a teenager finding his way,” she added. “We were learning how to be mommy and son. We were rekindling our relationship and to have him taken from me, I’m hurt.”

She is bewildered who would want to hurt her son.

“What this was over, I don’t know. Whether it was beef, whether it was hate,” his mother said.

“I hope whoever did this to me, my family and my child who can no longer come and hug me, kiss me, call me and ask me for anything, eat a meal with me, celebrate holidays with me — I hope justice is served and I hope they pay.”

But she worries witnesses won’t come forward.

“If you seen something, say something. You can help anyone dealing with what I’m dealing with be put at ease,” she said.

“The problem with this, we don’t speak … That’s the problem with this world and society. These young kids, I don’t know what happened from the times of me growing up.”

With Rocco Parascandola and Julian Roberts-Grmela