Atlanta stop turns terrifying: a 𝟏𝟕-𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫-𝐨𝐥𝐝 begs for his inhaler as an officer insists he’s “high” and pins him down with a knee on his neck. Witnesses scream he can’t 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞.

Atlanta stop turns terrifying: a 𝟏𝟕-𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫-𝐨𝐥𝐝 begs for his inhaler as an officer insists he’s “high” and pins him down with a knee on his neck. Witnesses scream he can’t 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞.

The video begins with a teenager’s shaking hands on a steering wheel and ends with those same hands cuffed behind his back while his lips turn blue.

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In between, there are pleas for an inhaler, accusations of drug dealing, and a police officer’s knee pressed into the neck of a dying child.

Isaiah Harper, 17, thought he was going to die in a Druid Hills parking lot on a Thursday afternoon. He remembers the asphalt against his face, the weight on his throat, and the complete inability to draw air into his lungs.

‘I thought this is it,’ Isaiah would later testify. ‘I thought I was never going to see my parents again.’

The honor student and varsity basketball player had made a stupid decision. His father’s BMW sat in the driveway. A new video game waited at GameStop. Twenty minutes there and back. No one would ever know.

Atlanta police officer Brett Dunham, 38, saw a Black teenager driving through an upscale neighborhood in a luxury car and made up his mind before the BMW even pulled over.

The traffic stop occurred at approximately 4:15 p.m. at the shopping center on Ponce de Leon Avenue near Briercliff Road. What should have been a citation for unauthorized use of a vehicle became something far darker.

‘I’m nervous,’ Isaiah told the officer, his voice trembling. ‘I’ve never been pulled over before.’

‘You’re shaking like you’re transporting something,’ Dunham responded. ‘You got drugs in this vehicle?’

Isaiah’s eyes went wide. ‘What? No, I don’t have drugs. I’m just scared.’

Body camera footage obtained by JPTV shows Dunham ordering the teenager out of the car and positioning him against the vehicle. The officer’s suspicion intensified as Isaiah’s anxiety mounted.

‘What are you nervous about?’ Dunham asked. ‘You transporting drugs? That why your hands are shaking like that?’

Isaiah insisted the BMW belonged to his father, a prominent civil rights attorney. Dunham wasn’t buying it.

‘You expect me to believe that a kid like you is driving a car like this and it just happens to belong to your father?’ the officer said. ‘You’re either a dealer driving your boss’s car or you stole it. Which one is it?’

Isaiah’s breathing grew faster. His chest began to tighten in a way he recognized all too well.

‘Sir, I have asthma,’ he said desperately. ‘I need to stay calm. My inhaler is in the car.’

Dunham saw the hyperventilating and drew the wrong conclusion.

‘What did you take? You’re tweaking right now. What drugs are in your system?’

‘I didn’t take anything,’ Isaiah gasped. ‘I have asthma. I need my inhaler.’

What happened next took less than three seconds but would change multip