It was a snug summer day when we first received the devastating message. Then the gloom covered us and weighed down upon our shoulders. Even the birds felt it, falling into complete silence as Dad drove me to the hospital. As we entered, the unique scent washed over me and settled in my body as I took a big whiff. The air was full of a hospital smell, but in the minuscule atoms of the concentrated air, there was  something else. There was always something else. Whether it was the pollen of the flowers or the smoke from the construction on our street, something always interfered with the odorless air. This time was the same. I tried to figure out what that smell was, but this smell was completely and disturbingly new to me. While I was pondering on that thought, my dad dragged me into a bright room full of light. Dad's stern voice disturbed my daydreaming and I looked up at him and saw. He had a very serious face on him, which always made me shiver. I followed his line of sight and it landed on the bed. There was Mom, frail and weak. I know I should care about Mom since I loved her so, but something else caught my eye. It was the cradle beside her. I peered into it and into the bundle of blankets and...there she was. I looked at the baby's sleeping eyes and poked her chubby cheeks. Dad spoke to Mom, telling her how he was sorry that he wasn't with her when she went through the pain and dread and sadness. I heard a wail. It came out of the crib. The baby started crying and reached for my finger. I felt her grasp tightly onto my pinky. I looked at my parents. They didn't seem to be in a good mood. I couldn't understand why. I may not completely understand the process of childbirth but I knew for sure that it was like a miracle. There was a lot of screaming and shouting but then after a while, everyone falls silent and a baby lies in a blanket. Something so precious, something so delicate shouldn't be mourned over but celebrated. Or at least, that's what I thought. From the looks of what was happening, Mom and Dad weren't in a positive mood currently. I looked back at the baby and saw that she was drooling all over my finger. I didn't reel back in disgust as I probably would have done if it was any other baby, but I let her hold my finger and looked at her with deep affection. That was it. Affection. Love. That was what was in the atoms of the air. I peered at my newborn sister, and as she held me, I felt my blood flowing, my brain working, my heart pumping...I finally felt alive after what seemed countless years. Then, something somewhere told me that my newborn sister was special and I was to protect and cherish her with all my might.