Blood. I see lots and lots of blood on the bed, floor, and wall. A room that looks like as if it was festooned in blood.  How is this happening? What am I looking at? What should I do about this? As questions were going through my head rapidly, I was there in the room with myself in complete shock, and I see my dad standing up and looking each other in the eye, both thinking what going on. It was as if someone bulted my feet to the ground and took my mouth away so I wouldn’t speak.  I just couldn’t move or talk.
I was only about 2 or 3 years old when I came to America. I don’t remember much but the only thing I remember clearly is when my mom and I were in the back of a car driving through a forest and there was this other guy driving us somewhere. He turns back and tells me,
“Don’t worry we’re almost there Goy!,” he said with ecstasy. I was speechless.

Holding onto my mothers arm I didn’t say a single word back because I was terrified of him. I mean he looked scary and the fact that he was bald made me even more timid.  After that every memory of me ever being in Africa is smudged. Before arriving to America we first went to Egypt to get on a boat, at least that's what my father told me. When we arrived to America we first moved to Chicago for a year. It was my mom and I always at home while my dad was working. He worked at  Sam’s club for twelve years. When I was younger we moved to a lot of states, towns, apartments, and houses. I lived in Chicago, Iowa, and Minnesota. In Minnesota I lived in Farmington, Burnsville, Apple Valley, Rosemount, and New Prague. I lived in New Prague for most of my life, but I also lived in Burnsville for a long time throughout my childhood. My childhood wasn't an ordinary childhood. It wasn't good but also wasn't necessarily bad either. There were just events in my life that changed me. The biggest event in my life happened when I was around 6 or seven years old and happened in Burnsville... When I was younger my parents used to argue quite a bit. I hated hearing my mom and dad argue. I would always tell my younger siblings to go in one room to stay there.

One day when I was only about seven years old, my parents were arguing and I heard some thumps… I went out of a room that my sibling and I went into because we have heard our parents arguing so I decided to have my siblings and I in there.
I told them with extreme caution,“Just stay in here and don’t leave no matter what.”
My parents were in my room. What I saw then will always scar me for life.. I opened the door and it smelt very unusual. I couldn't tell what smell it was because I’ve never smelt anything like it before. It was so unusual that my nostrils started to burn a little bit. When I opened the door I saw my mother there on the floor and my dad standing up. They both looked at me not saying a word. I stood there horrified at what I saw. In my head I was just thinking What in the world is going on? Why is there so much blood? What happen!?  I saw my dad's hand full of blood and dripping a lot. He had a really bad cut on his thumb. I remember it exactly, and there I saw my mom there leaning against the side of the bed with her right leg bleeding. She didn't even recognized me. I started to tear up trying to get my mom to remember me and my siblings, she didn’t even remember how to speak english.. She said,
“Who are you?” My mom said terrified at what was going on, “Where am I?”
“ I’m Goy, I am your son. You, me, and dad came to America together remember?”
I was trying to get her reminiscing but it didn't work. Later on I called my aunt and after I told her the story she came over right away. She only lived a few blocks from the apartments we used to live in Burnsville. She brought her kids along so that we can calm down and try to forget about what happened. My two younger siblings didn't see my room. I couldn't forget what I saw and I’m afraid that I will never be able to forget or look past it. My room was covered in blood. My bed had red blood stains all over and half of a wall was covered in blood. I’ve never seen so much blood before in my life. I was only six/ seven at the time.  My cousin was three years older than me and when she got into the room she was extremely shocked.
“ Oh my god.. I-I-I don’t even have the words to express what I’m feeling and seeing. I can’t believe this all happened in y-yo-your room. You have to stay with us for the night..” My cousin Nyajimme said while her eyes were snipped to the wall with complete shock and confusion. 
“No I want to stay here. I want to stay with my mother and father!” I refused angrily. Usually I would love spending the night at a relative's house because we would always have so much fun doing whatever. It was very odd refusing a request like that, but I didn’t care because I was livid.
I was so livid that she thought I would leave my mom and dad. Like how could you leave your parents after seeing all that? Moments later my aunt took my mom and dad to the hospital and all the kids stayed home. We weren't alone my aunt called my other aunt and she came over to babysit us. She also brought her kids along. My other cousin named Diew, who was two years older than me was clueless and didn’t know what has happened. So my cousin from earlier who is named Nyajimma and I showed him the room and explained everything to him. He was also speechless. We three stood there looking down not saying a word to each other, until my aunt called us to go to the living room to watch movies together.  Still not saying a word we went into the living room and watched a looney toon movie. I got so into that movie that I almost forgot what happened that day. My aunts and my cousin were comforting me and were making  me my favorite food, which was mac and cheese when I was younger. I ate two bowls of mac and cheese and was satisfied. A little while later The Aunt that was originally here came back with my mom and dad. I looked at them instantly tearing and went to give them a hug. I believe it was the longest hug I have ever given. I see my dad's hand and it's in wrapps so it wasn't too bad. I was relief. But my mom was in crutches. She had a boot and her arm was wrapped.  She looked at me and smiled.
“ Hey gahtchi.” She said that with a smile. That was an African nickname my aunt gave me.
“You remember? You remember me!?”
I had instant tears of joy and for the rest of the night everyone was happy. Bedtime came around the corner and I slept in the guest room. I was laying there sad and disappointed. I wish I could've done something. I’m the oldest child and the only one that was born from our country of Africa. I was always bearing the most responsibility. Even though I was malaise now and back throughout that event, I had to grow up fast. Times were tough when I was young because we were still getting used to the American customs. My father was very stressed. Always at work because my mom couldn't work because she had to take care of me and my two other sisters at the time.  In my culture things like what happened with my mom and dad are natural. That event that happened years ago shaped me into a man who can be prepared for things that life throws at me.