I Woke Up That Day By The Loudest Siren

I woke up that day by the loudest siren. It was like a train horn, ringing my tympanic membrane to its breaking point. It was my four-teen year old sister, yelling in a way I never heard in my eleven years of being alive. I laid on my bed, shocked from being woken by the screams of a banshee. I was frozen in time, trying to figure out what was going on. She screamed again, but only this time with a tearful echo. Still, I did nothing, I tried moving but I couldn’t. I was stuck, it was like a mountain sitting on top of me pushing me down to the very inner core of earth. I was petrified, laying on my uncomfortable mattress just running scenarios in my head of what could possibly be going on.

I finally managed to conjure some courage and unglue myself from the bed. I sat there for a couple of seconds and listened. All I could hear was indistinct voices, and sounds behind my bedroom door. I finally managed to stand up, feeling the frozen concrete floor rushing into my bare feet. I could see my sister’s shadow from the bottom of the door, tracing her every step, but I was too afraid to see beyond the safety of my room. I felt like the walls were getting crushed by the colossal weight of that mountain; but still all I could do was linger there, scared to death. I heard her a third time but only this time it was echoed my father. “What’s wrong?”, he said trying to force the last bit of breath he had out of him.

When I heard the safety of my father’s voice, it was like the lights of a crepuscular rays, shining through the clouds into my room. He gave me the strength and courage to take that mountain off my shoulders. I was finally free from that enormous weight that was pinning me down, to the inner core of earth. I finally managed to pu...

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...her to the doctor”. “Are you going to pay for her fucking surgery?” he replied, while putting his head down.

I walked back into the bathroom, and stayed with her, as she cried, she looked at me with her little, frightened brown eyes. I looked down at her brown, blood filled body and seen a 3-inch twig perforating her belly all the way down into her anus. I remembered that she used to love chewing sticks, because we couldn’t afford chew toys. I looked back at her eyes, I knew she was going to die, and there was nothing I could do to help her. She kept weeping in pain, she was scared, and all I could do was sit with her, pet her, and help her ease her pain. Her cry got weaker and weaker, as the current of blood grew stronger. She took a deep inhale, and finally, her suffering was put to an end. I got up, sat by my sister and told her, “She is in a better place now”.