It was 2004, me and my family had gone to Khao Lak (Thailand) for a holiday. I was listening to music in the plane, and my little brother Thomas was freaking out like crazy. I glared at him, and ignored him through the rest of the flight, until mom came over to me and sat down in the seat where Thomas had once been. Where'd he go?
"Look, be a little nicer to your brother." I remember her saying, "Hang out a little more with your brother, okay?" I stared at her, then sighed and nodded, "Yeah, sure, whatever."
When we got there, after unpacking, we were swimming around in the pool, where I was just sitting around, doing nothing, when I heard a noise. It sounded like a gigantic vacuum cleaner, just sucking up the entirety of Thailand or something, but when I looked up, all I saw was a giant wave crashing down against the earth. I didn’t know what to do, so I quickly jumped into the water. Though me and my family managed to survive it, even if we were scattered.
I was scared, hungry, really hurt, and still trying to get over shock, but my mom was hurt (there was a hole in her leg, one from which she was probably stabbed in) so I had to help her out. It was a lot to take in, but my mom seriously needed help, so I did my best in helping her. We took a rest by a tree, but she couldn’t climb up it, so I had to grab her and lift her up myself. I ignored her protests, even if it hurt. I was only twelve, but like I said, she needed help. It felt like forever until we were found other people (they were people who lived in huts or the trees), who drove us to a hospital. Mom kept asking me if her leg was black, the first time I answered no, it’s red the second, I lied to her, and said it was still red. She asked me to go help out the other people, since I was good at that, she said, so I did. I reunited a father with his son, and went to tell mom, but when I came back, her bed was no longer there.
I was so scared, so scared and lost that I started to scream when they put a new patient on the bed. I can remember everyone’s eyes on me, and one of the nurses came and got me to calm down. She led me to this tent, full of all these lonely kids with name tags, and after she consulted with the lady at the desk, a name tag was strapped on my shirt. I felt so helpless, and lonely, just like each and every one of the kids in this tent.
After a while, the nurse came back and got me to see my mom, where she was really badly damaged, and her leg was horribly black. I can remember feeling the dread that just hung over me, before I couldn’t breath and needed to take a walk. Outside, it’s hard to believe, but I met up with dad, and my two younger brothers, and all I could feel was relief and happiness until I remembered mom, and went back inside, where the nurse told me and dad that mom had to go through surgery. I regretted never telling her her leg was black, and it haunted me the entire time she was going through surgery but she survived it nonetheless. It was terrifying, I can still hear all the people screaming and crying as the wave hit them, it was like a nightmare that you just couldn’t wake up from, and you never do, until the bitter reality hits you, that it’s actually real. But there was one more thing I could remember.
Mom tapped me on the shoulder, and I looked at her, my eyes bagged and tired from no sleep, as I sat next to her healing body in the plane. She smiled at me, but it was genuine. It was a broken, shattered smile, but her eyes also held relief, even with tears flowing out of her eyes, “Hang out a little more with your brother, okay?” I blinked, and it took me a while to realize that that was the thing she had said to me on the plane. I smiled and nodded, “I wouldn't miss hanging out with him for the world.”
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