An eerie sound of a single siren awoke me fairly early this morning. It wasn’t a siren that could be heard from miles away, that kind that gets louder as it gets closer and then slowly fades as it travels further away. This was a siren that turned on for merely a few seconds, then silenced. My bedroom momentarily was lit by blinding red that traveled through shut mini-blinds. That eerie bright glow of crimson, that’s not constant, but moving and flashing, then gone. Gone, like my sleep. I have heard many sirens passing by and have had my room lit up enough times too by the flashing lights of a firetruck or ambulance passing by.
Early this morning though, the feeling was different. With the world more silenced, halted, shutdown, I couldn’t stop wondering where this presumed ambulance was going, who it was transporting or what scene it would soon be tending. So many people around the world have become accustomed to moments like these, but here, I have been spoiled, never put into a situation that I don’t want to be in, almost a feeling of privilege, that it’s only the other people halfway around the world that suffer through terrible tragedies, but here, we only watch it on a screen without ever really feeling much of a connect with those people that have a beating heart, like me, and a mind filled with never ending emotions, needs, goals … Early this morning, it all felt so different, it garnered a whole new way of thinking, and brought on fears that I presumed were locked up tight … an eerie sound of a single siren.