My mom's arms always made me feel so safe. She smiled and gave me a hug before my mind went off to what any 10-year-old's mind would go to when dreaming. I touched her pregnant stomach knowing my little brother would be in there. She kissed my forehead and my mind wandered off.
I woke up to my mom's screams, and my dad yelling at me to get up, we needed to rush to the hospital.
I see my baby brother for the first time in my mom's arms. She was so happy. "What's his name, Mom?" She smiled at Dad and answered, "Elliot."
A year had passed. It was exactly 1:03 a.m. when I found out happiness only lasted so long.
"NO, NO WHERE IS SHE?! YOU LET ME TALK TO MY WIFE RIGHT NOW!" My dad screamed as I heard a loud thud on the floor. I quickly rush down the stairs. The phone is face-up on the floor and my dad, who looks as if he has a red mask on, is in a pool of tears. My hands touched my cheeks which were already wet. My knees hit the floor and my dad lifted me up, even though I felt like I was pushed down the deepest well, and shut in there. Little did I know I'd be there longer than I expected.
I was now in my bed, sweating. My dad was right next to me, with a worried expression plastered on his face. I must have screamed, again. "Eliza it's okay, it's okay, you're fine" My dad wrapped me in his arms and my eyes were filled with tears. My mind revisits the night every once in a while. If not, it's replaced with a bad dream. All the pain and life that was completely sucked out of me at that moment, crammed into a nightmare. I don't know how much time had passed when I find that my dad was still holding me, and I realized I was still crying.
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