Bam! I whipped around to see Isabelle, only a sweet tiny 4 year old, clutching her skull, laying on the ground by the wall starting to sniffle. All I could think to do was sit there staring, while everyone rushed over to help her. All that was running through my 8 year old head while people pushed past was, Issy is really hurt, and this might be her last Thanksgiving! She didn’t even get to pick a dessert! Is that blood? Where is daddy? Issy is going to die, I’ll never see her again.

It all started at our usual Thanksgiving party at our house, on November 22, 2012. The whole house smelt of cooked turkey, mashed potatoes, roast, cranberry sauce, pies and other amazing smelling foods. Everyone except me, my sisters, and my grandma, were in the living room chatting away about politics, boats, the president, and everything else under the moon. The voice that dominated over everyone else's was my grandpa’s, who loved talking about how terrible Obama was. Food sizzled as it was being prodded, poked at, and smelt over and over again by my mom, and by my grandma, who were having heated conversation about whether the turkey was ready or not. The only thought running through my 8 year old head was, Wow that whipped cream looks good! Maybe grandma won’t notice if I get some on my fingers. Both of my sisters decided to copy me, and sat at both of my sides, on their knees.  My mom had just pulled the turkey out of the oven, besides my grandma’s opinion. It never occurred to my that everything on that table would be waiting for hours before reaching my mouth.

Meanwhile, everything was sitting on the island, just calling me, wanting me to sink my tiny teeth into every food in front of me, especially the sweet pumpkin pie, which looked so good, I almost squealed when I saw it sitting there, just waiting for me, calling me, begging me to eat it.. The smell of the house was absolutely outstanding, and the sound of my family’s babble was starting to increase, yet I still could hear Isabelle asking my mom all about the turkey, and my mom not answering, becoming very frazzled. “ Mommy, when is the turkey gonna be done?”   Issy questioned, looking very innocent. My mom bustled around in front of us, not hearing issy’s question.

I felt a small tap on my right shoulder, and looked around to face Addison, who obviously had something important to her to tell me. “ What dessert are you going to get?”

I could barely hear her over our family, and my grandma yelling, “ Dinner time! Kids first!” I smiled at Addy, and as I was about to reply, I heard a shriek, thud, and scream coming from behind me. I whipped around, and saw Isabelle laying on the cold, tile floor.

Then, everything seemed to freeze in front of me. All I really noticed in the commotion, was Isabelle’s eyes, which looked absolutely terrified of everything, she even looked scared of my dad as he scooped her up, and brought her to the living room couch. My whole body seemed to be petrified, and it felt as though 500 buckets of ice was being dumped on my head, nothing seemed capable to move, except for my feet, which seemed to be working just fine, considering they carried me into the living room, where my whole family was either silent, asking 1,000 questions, or crying. Isabelle had been crying before she was starting to slow down, and look like she was going to pass out, and at that point, my mom called 911, and my dad had just finished inspecting Issy’s head for blood. After my mom had finished talking to 911, and called out to me, over everyone's heads, “ Emily, start getting people to help daddy keep Issy awake!” She was shaking, and white, this scared me.

I immediately turned to Addison, and cousins, “ We HAVE to do crazy things to keep Isabelle awake, mom said,” I exclaimed, as we shoved our way to the front of the crowd. We started acting like mentally insane people as we flapped around, crossing our eyes, and trying to avoid Isabelle’s eyes, which were droopy, and rolling around. Isabelle’s whole body was shaking, sweating, and she looked as though she were about to explode.

Food was starting to become cold, and my stomach was absolutely aching when I heard the sounds of the ambulance rushing down our neighborhood, 10  minutes later, sirens blaring, and lights blinding. My mom and dad bolted to the door holding Issy and zoomed out of the house, and to the ambulance, and police cars. I didn’t see Isabelle until five hours later.

When they finally arrived home, my grandma had finished up the food, and we all were starving, yet wanted to hear every detail of the spine - chilling experience after they left our sight. After that frightening, and blood - curdling experience, we all devoured the food, especially all of the desserts! To this day, neither me, or my sisters sit on our knees. Nobody in my family, especially me, will ever forget the Thanksgiving that Isabelle almost died.