Four Christmases ago, I was shaken from sleep by my brother who was excited to inform me that he had woken up to a brand new 50cc Honda dirt bike in the middle of our living room failing to hide behind the big ribbon tied to it's shiny handlebars. As the years passes, my brother's dirt biking hobby slowly turned into an obsession. My family knew that like any other sport it was dangerous, and we saw just how dangerous it could be this summer.
It was race day early in the morning at Club Motto when my brother putted off preparing for his first race. I figured it wouldn't be long before everyone returned, so I waited; keeping myself busy with cleaning the mess left behind from the rushed morning. But when the minutes kept passing and his dirt bike class was filing back to their camps, I came to the realization that something had gone wrong. Trying to convince myself otherwise, I waited again and when I finally glanced my brother's red 85cc looking banged and bruised, I was disappointed to see two of his friends tugging the bike onto the stand. I demanded to know what happened, and after a few seconds, one boy answered slowly "he's gotten into a crash, looks like a bad one." Fear swept through me as I stood still watching them walk away.
As his words began to sink in and the boys had disappeared, I began to walk slowly down the long dirt road that lead to the track in the search of my brother. Races were still going on as the announcer's slurred words boomed through the old speakers. Curiously, I followed a small string of people to find my mother walking around in distracted circles not knowing what to do, when she finally noticed me, she nodded and signaled for me to follow, and when we turned the corner around a curiously placed couch, the ambulance's lights came into view.
When we reached the back of the ambulance both doors were wide open where people stood scrambled around my father who was holding a broken helmet and torn shirt. I glanced over the lady in the ambulance to see my brother in tears with a bruised face and cut up arms. Everything after that was a blur of people, lights, rooms, and words. Relief swept through me as we were informed by the emergency room that he'll be just fine with lots of rest and ice, and not to be alarmed when his black eye appears.