“Amanda, do you want to go to the beach today?” Opening my eyes, I saw my dad standing in my doorway smiling eagerly. I hastily answered, “No!” and wiggled my way back into my cocoon of covers. I can guess that upon returning to deep sleep I was soon dreaming of performing: it has been my dream since I first stood in front of an audience in second grade dressed as “Belle” and singing “Beauty and the Beast.” My dad, a fireman, let me drift back to sleep that morning, but my dreams were soon interrupted by the sounds of shattering glass and loud screams. Confused, I hopped out of bed and made my way to our kitchen. What I saw made me realize that when I’d heard the sounds of devastation, I hadn’t been dreaming.
My dad moved without hesitation, sliding down the bannister of our stairs as if he were at his firehouse. My mom, flailing and crying, waved toward our neighbor’s house, now in flames just feet from ours. My older brother, a policeman, followed my dad after retrieving a ladder. What could I do? I’ve always been the artsy one in my family. I was just a high school kid with no life-saving skills.
I stood frozen for several seconds, terrified. My hands shook uncontrollably. As panic crept up on me, I remembered my dad always telling me that every little thing counts.
With jittery hands, I grabbed the cool, silver wireless phone from the living room. I pressed the rubber buttons in the pattern “9-1-1” as thick black smoke surrounded my house like morning fog. Who knew calling for help could be so challenging? I had more butterflies in my stomach at that moment than I’d ever had performing in front of a full house. I’d never fumbled my lines on stage, but when the operator answered and I began to speak, I struggled to form words. I collected myself and said, “Fire, 228 Kingdom Ave… Need ambulance.” Then, pulling my mom with me, I ran out of the house and heard with relief the blaring sirens of firetrucks racing toward us from the distance.
That day my neighbor lost her home but not her life. That day my father and brother sustained bruises and burns while saving my neighbor. That day the firetrucks I had summoned stopped the fire from spreading to other houses. That day I was transformed to a young adult able to remain level-headed under stress. Looking back on it, I believe that in life we all have our part to play. My act of convincing another with emotional rhetoric will forever be apart of my life. Considering the lives of my family and my neighbors prevented that morning from ending much worse.
That morning, my adolescent, dependent self gave way to a more practical, self-sufficient, outward-thinking person. The newer me understands that my actions, whether rehearsed or made in a split second, can have great implications for others. Since the fire, I’ve recognized that my family’s ethos of acting responsibly and caring for others is part of my make-up, too. From my experience, I believe that your background does not hinder you from making the right choices for yourself and others, no matter the circumstances. I now consider myself a pragmatic individual who will confidently make informed and moral decisions in my future.