The Fire that Fell From the Sky

The hospital had been the safest I’ve felt since they destroyed my home eight days ago.  Mama has been in the maternity ward since 5:45 this morning.  The doctors felt confident that the baby was okay and that I would be a big sister in the next few hours. The explosion had burned our bodies pretty badly but we were fine.  Papa was still missing but I couldn’t tell mama.  She had been through so much already.  The nurse told me that any more stress could be really bad for her and the baby.
The sky opened up eight days ago as hell rained down. My ears still rang from the explosions.  Mama was getting breakfast ready and papa was reading.  I was in my room brushing my hair, anticipating the arrival of my new baby brother and the many songs and stories I would teach him.   What would he look like, I thought? Would he laugh at my jokes? Would he like me?

My day dreaming was interrupted by a buzzing sound. I lay my brush on my nightstand. The buzzing transformed into a slow rumble. My hairbrush moved with the vibrations and then fell to the floor.  I walked into the kitchen to tell mama and papa. Papa had already run outside to see what was happening.  Mama grabbed me and we rushed under our kitchen table.  We had been preparing for this moment for years.
I could see papa through the entry way. Mama held me tight.  I heard the buzzing again. I yelled “papa!” I tried to reach for him. He looked up at the sky.  Then everything went black.  That was the last thing I saw before we were brought here eight days ago.

“Your mommy is having the baby now” the nurse whispered to me. “You will be a big sister any minute.”  “Can I see mama now?” I asked. “We will let you see her once the baby is born.”she replied.

6:30PM. I heard his first screams.  I pushed past the doctors and ran to mama’s side.   I watched as they cleaned him.  They wrapped him in a soft blue blanket and laid him next to mama.  I climbed onto her bed and rested my head on her chest.  She rubbed our foreheads, her heartbeat swaying my mind to sleep.