Every day you hear about accidents all over the world, and although you feel sad, you do not really pay much attention because it doesn’t personally affect you. You go through life, accidents and tragedies all around you, but you are okay. Then one day it is your turn. Now you are surrounded by people who are alright and you are the one who is not okay. You cannot walk by this time. You cannot brush by the cries, cannot change the channel when you have had enough. You have to push, and you have to survive, because this time, it is not going to go away.

For me, that time was just a short two summers ago. It was during the week of July 4th. Since my family is half American, we go down to the states a lot, but especially for Independence Day. This year, my family was going up from the 1st till the 6th and leaving one of my sisters and me with my grandparents for another week. I thought it was a great idea. We wee staying at my grandparent’s farm house for the first week because their house was not big enough for all of us.

We had had a lot of fun on our first day. It was now the night of July 2nd. The temperature was dropping, but it was just warm enough for dad, grandpa, grandma, and I to sit outside while my mom made a gigantic fire in our fire pit. I remember being fascinated by the flames leaping everywhere, and the tiny sparks which would fly away with the wind until they were snuffed out. That night we also set off some fireworks. Their stunning colors flashed brightly in the night sky, seemingly dancing on the wind. The scraps, of course, went in the fire, just like anything else that would keep the fire going strong. When I got tired, I went inside to bed, but the others stayed out a bit later. If I could go back in time, I would go back to that night, and throw a pail of water over that fire… but I can’t and I have to live with that regret.

I don’t remember much about the morning of July 3rd, only that we were outside a whole bunch, taking in the sunshine. Around 4 o’clock, we were getting ready to head to the most amazing frozen custard place in the world. My sister Hannah and I ran upstairs to change.

We were almost done, when I heard a screech. I can only imagine the intensity of pain in that cry because I didn’t pay much attention to it. Willow started to cry loudly and someone yelled that Jack needed to be found. Hannah was worried, but I wasn’t because I thought Jack had just done something to her like he usually does. Hannah started to go downstairs to see what was going on, so I followed. We were on the top steps when dad appeared at the bottom of the stairs. Before Hannah or I could say anything, dad spoke. He told us that we needed to find Jackson because Willow fell in the fire pit and the ambulances were coming.

The only person on my mind was Willow. I had a picture of flames consuming my princess playing through my head over and over again. I felt like I was being consumed by a demon, a demon of fear and I was slowly falling into a pit of darkness. There was a sound piercing my ears, which I realized was my sister screaming. It was a wail I can a still remember to this day, one I will not soon forget. I heard rather then felt myself scream at my sister to shut up. The demon still had a hold on me as I made my way down the stairs.

Someone stopped us in our tracks and lead us out the front door instead of the back door where Willow was. Someone else has Jackson and was holding him close. That’s when the fire trucks, ambulances, and rescue vehicles began to show up. In no time at all, a paramedic holding Willow in his arms climbed into a waiting ambulance, my mom close at him heels. My dad came around the back of the house, tears streaming down his face. I will never forget this moment. Not forever, because the sight of your father crying is the worst thing to see. My sister and I were of course already crying, but at this my sobs turned into silent heaving. I could only watch as my grandma took the wheel of our van from dad’s hands. He looked at us with a tear stained face and puffy eyes and said that everything was going to be alright, that Willow was alright. I think he was saying this to reassure himself more than us.

Except for my quiet sobs, I didn’t speak a word all night. I was scared, I was lost, and I was regretful. I wish I could have doe something to stop it. I was there beating myself up because I couldn’t get over the fact that I wasn’t there when my sister needed me most. I remember the other kids trying to talk to me, crying because I couldn’t answer, the grandpa telling them to give me some time. It’s not just that I wouldn’t answer, it’s that I couldn’t. I was too wrapped up in my mind I hardly heard them, probably would not have been able to answer them if I did. I don’t remember going to bed that night, but I do remember getting the message that Willow would be in the hospital for a while. The next morning I woke up and dad was home. The minute I saw him, I burst into tears and ran into his arms. He put his chin on my head and I felt wet tears drip onto my hair. Dad told us that mom and Willow were fine at the hospital. Willow had third degree burns in some places and second degree burns in others. She had burnt from her ankle to almost her hip on one leg, and her hand on the same side.

Later that day, we went to go see Willow. I remember holding Hannah and Jack when we went to the hospital, we were all crying. Jackson was crying because he didn’t know what was going on, and he saw Hannah and me crying. Walking into the hospital was all a blur; I couldn’t see anything through my tears. I clenched my sister and brother’s hands like they were a life line. Dad made us wait outside of the hospital room so that we could stop crying, but it didn’t help. As soon as I walked into her room and saw her small, frail body lying in the bed too big for her, silent tears running down her face, I lost it. I stood there, at the end of her bed, crying, my dad doing the same as he held me. Slowly we made our way to the edge of her bed, as Willow grabbed my hand. She was only two, she was the one that was hurting, but somehow with that single touch, made me feel strong enough to stop crying at least for a little while.

We continued to visit Willow every day. She was in the hospital for ten days, and we never missed a visit. Sometimes the visits were short and sometimes they were long, but when I was with Willow, time seemed to slip away. Soon every visit got a little easier, the tears came less often, but Willow seemed worse. My whole family wanted Willow to come back home. She was depressed in her own way. Gone was our “Happy-Go-Lucky” tow year old. She didn’t laugh at all really; she would lose focus easily, and cried every time her visitors left. She wasn’t doing very well.

My dad and Jack had gone back home halfway through the week, to check on the store and the house. Hannah and I had been putting off going back home, every since they got back to Rochester. The day came though, when mom and dad told us we had to go home. We went for a walk before we left, pushing Willow in her little stroller. She didn’t know what was going on, until she saw us walk up to the van.

I remember that day, clear in my mind. It was a nice day; the sun was shining, with not a single cloud in the sky. Even know there was no wind, I couldn’t stop shivering. Dad, Hannah, Jackson, and I said goodbye to Willow and mom. Willow started crying, and grabbed our hands. She said no with her voice, but her eyes said much more. They welled up with tears, and then slowly dripped down her face. Each tear I saw falling down her face, was like a knife in my heart. When I got the message her eyes were trying to send, the knife twisted even deeper. “Don’t leave me please, I need you, I need you so much. Please make me feel better, take me with you” was the message she had sent to me. I looked up and saw my parents hugging, small almost invisible tears were running down their faces. Jackson held Hannah, who held onto Willow and I. We were a family heartbroken as we said goodbye, on the sidewalk outside the hospital. To anyone else, we may have looked crazy. The sadness was real within the circle of people, I cared the most about. I heard the van doors open behind me, our signal that it was time to go. We each gave Willow one last kiss, gave mom one last hug, and then climbed into the car. We were all still crying, are faces were pressed against the windows as we slowly drove away. Mom was standing beside Willow holding her hand, was the last thing we say as we got on the road to go home, minus two.

The car ride seemed long, too long. I don’t remember stopping crying, if I even did. I sat apart from the others, lost in my own world of grief, as the kids lost themselves in a childish movie. When we finally got home, we just went straight to bed. It was one of the worst days of my life. The next day we woke up with fantastic news. Willow would be coming home! Mom; even though the doctors wanted Willow to stay for at least three more nights, insisted they leave. Willow had gotten worse after we had left, she didn’t want to do anything at all. She cried and told mom she wanted us. Mom knew that for her to improve her health, she had to be with her family. Mom asked the doctors to show her how to change Willow’s bandages. They reluctantly showed her how, and mom and Willow packed their things to leave the hospital. When they got home, everyone was overjoyed! Everyone went to bed happy that night for a change.

Willow continued to get better, every single day. She got her bandages changed daily, and was able to learn how to walk again. She smiled and played a lot more, but we knew it was going to be a long healing process. She still does, and will always have scars, to remind her of this tough time. Two years later though, she is still a daredevil. She will do anything no matter how much it hurts, or how dangerous we say it is. Just this winter, she went down a stony hill on her sled and cracked her head open on a sharp rock. No matter what happens, no matter how annoying, rude or difficult she is, I am so glad I have her as my sister! I don’t know what I would do without my darling princess. She keeps my life exciting, with new decisions every day.