I was 11 years old. It was a exciting day for us for our family. We planned to go to a trip.
We left in the afternoon. We were in the car heading to seattle. I looked at my parents and brother faces’ they were happy and so was i.

5 miles ahead there was a stop sign. My dad was slowing down so he could he stop. He looked both ways to see if any car was coming . Everything was clear. No cars were coming so he push the gas.

We crossed the stop sign. We heard a honging sound. The sound was getting closer and closer. We looked. It was a truck coming fast, when we looked the truck hit us. I blacked out.

It was a different story. I didn’t know were i was. COULDN’T BREATH. 15 minutes passed i was waking up and breathing. Was so scared because i didn’t know were i was.

My parents were by my side. I kept saying’’ what i am doing here?” What happened? Why i am here ?” crying. I looked around. Looking for my brother. “ Mom, were’s my brother ?” I could tell he was very hurt because my parents faces and tears were dropping down from worried.

Hugging my mom. Screaming. “ Where’s my brother !” I didn’t know what to do. I was very sorrowful but at the same time I was mad too. I was punching the floor getting out my anger. Why this happen to him ! Why. Why. Why him? and not me.

I couldn’t believe it he was okay. Praying sometimes it causes miracles. So that made me think when our family were in church. Praying that there prayers made a miracle and I was so amazed. Thats how much we loved him.