"Barry, wake up." Is what my mother used to say in the morning with breakfast ready on the kitchen table. She would make sunny side up eggs with some of the worlds best pancakes and freshly squeezed orange juice. My father Henry always was on the go so he would grab a pancake and gulp down a glass of orange juice and run to the door where my mother would meet him with a kiss and his work bag.
Then one day it all ended.
I woke up one night to screaming and my mother in the living room with a mass amount of colours in the shapes of lightning bolts surround her. My father came and grabbed me and ran outside with me. The lightning lead its way outside and my mother was left laying on the floor of the living room. "MOM!" I shouted as I ran towards the house but my father grabbed me by the waste and told me to stay here. He ran inside to look at the scene and what he saw he could never forget. The street lit up with red and blue lights in a flashing motion sirens filled the ears of the people trying to sleep.
"Come out with your hands up!' The police shouted as the got out of their car and drawer their weapons from their hips. My father walked out with his hands up in tears. "I didn't do this!' He kept shouting. I began to shout at the police to put their weapons down but they were not listening.
"Barry!" A familiar voice yelled out. "Barry come here son!" I looked to my left and there was Joe West waving his hand signalling to come to himself. I ran over and wrapped my arms around him and let the tears shed from my face. I couldn't hold it back any longer. I grasped his shirt with all my might and soaked it where I laid my face.
