I sat in the passenger seat. The gray, worn down seats made the back if my arms itch. I positioned the seatbelt and shifted my body in an attempt to feel more comfortable.
My mother sat at the driver's seat, while cleaning supplies littered the back seats. A green swifer mop was played put on the connected seats, while a red bin full of cleaning chemicals was on the floor, and a faded out red bag with dirty cleaning cloth's of assorted colors, shapes, and textures lay at my feet.
I finally managed to get comfortable. As my mother got onto the left lane and turned the corner, a large sound erupted from around us.
I couldn't pinpoint the location, but as we kept moving forward I realized that it was the sound of a siren.
My first instinct was to check and see if my seatbelt was across myself, in case it was siren of a cop car. The siren got louder and louder, and I realized that it wasn't the call that the cops made.
The sirens grew louder, and my mother, slightly frightened by the sudden incoming sound moved to the side of the road and stopped the car.
I now knew that the sounds were coming from in front of us.
Streaks of red flashed by as two firetrucks passed by. My mother was about to restart the car, when another volley of of sounds cane barreling towards us.
I distinctly recognized the sounds of ambulances from a distant childhood memory.
I clenched my sweating palms on the seatbelt, anxiously waiting for the ambulances to pass by us. I looked out of my window and glimpsed dark grey shadows inside of the back of the white ambulance.
When the ambulance passed by, my mother's phone rang. My younger sister was calling her.
I answered the phone for my mother and put the phone on speaker.
My sisters voice was laced with strong emotions. Sadness. Fear. Sorrow. Worry. And above all... Regret.
She was crying- no... Sobbing...
My mother pulled off of the side of the road, the gravel crunching underneath the old tires.
She asked my sister and hat was wrong. My sister only managed to choke out one word due to her ugly sobbing.
That one word... That one word sent me into an endless spiral of spinning emotions.
I too started sobbing uncontrollably when she choked out the word "dad."
