There are things in life that one becomes accustomed to. Patterns in life that stay the same grow on people. The slightest change in these patterns can affect one’s life as they know it. Being the youngest child for thirteen years is an example of a pattern that can grow on someone throughout time. That is the pattern that I am accustomed to. Today is the day for a new beginning. The rhino will be born. The unfamiliar silence in the morning wakes me up. Usually there is the sound of food being prepared. Usually my bedroom is bouncing from the treadmill being used directly underneath it. As the quietness fills my ears, I realize that I am one of two people in this house. The rest of my family is at the appointment, the one that will change my life forever. As I groggily rise to my unstable feet, Jackson, my older brother, rushes into my room. As I am blinded from the sudden change of lighting, my brother asks me a question that is muffled out from my confusion.

“What?” I mumble. Things are becoming clearer as every second goes by.


“Are you ready for today? The Rhino will be born,” my brother exclaims once again with the same amount of enthusiasm as if he never repeats himself. My heart skips a beat. I am thrilled for the rhino to come mentally, but I do not know what is to come physically. I strain to imagine the remainder of my life without having an idea of what it is going to truly be like. I can grasp the idea of having more responsibilities. I can grasp the idea that it will not always be easy, yet I cannot comprehend the extent of responsibilities and how difficult it will be. I am interrupted in my internal thought by a brief phrase. I glace up realizing that Jackson is still in front of me. He is tall, yet shorter than my dad. I would say he is around six feet and three inches. Staring up at the tower above me, I notice the specks of green in his pure, striking blue eyes. The coffee colored highlights in his hair are distinguished against the blond strands peeking out from underneath. I wonder if the Rhino will look like him. The one thought triggers 1,000 more.

“Bridget!” Jackson explains, sounding more irritated than before. I guess my thought had been blocking him out.

“I am excited and nervous. It is like how you feel before a game. You know? How do you feel?” I explain to divert his attention from my long thoughts.

“Yeah I know what you mean. I feel the same way. The last time this happened was thirteen years ago, so I think everyone feels that way.” He replies, seeming less discombobulated than I am. He has experience, unlike me. “Want to get some breakfast?” he offers. I peek at the clock, and it reads 9:45.



“Sure.” I answer, completely awake now. As we head downstairs, I ask, “What time are we being picked up?”



“Whenever we call. I think either Dad or Nana and Papa will pick us up. Mom and Dad both left at 5:30 this morning. Nana said that the estimated time is around noon, but one really knows for sure,” he states. He acts confident in his answer, almost as if he understands it more than I do. The truth is he does.

Eggs are the only food on the menu this morning. My brother and I are both ignorant when it comes to cooking. Cooking is my dad’s specialty. As I fry the mixture of yellow and white on the stove, the noise of the juices sizzling prompts a memory from two years ago.

***

“Am I doing this right daddy?” I doubt myself in an innocent voice that can only carry truth.

“Yes. You are doing great. These gnocchi are going to be delicious. Your mom will love them, especially since they are homemade,” he replies as delicately as possible. I glance up at his chocolate eyes and coffee tinted hair, being slightly darker than my own. I can tell he is getting somewhat frustrated by the new recipe, but he still holds his temper around me, around everyone. Once I finish slicing the sweet potato droplets one by one, he slides them in the frying pan. Instantly there is the sound of snakes surrounding the pan. The hissing of gnocchi quenching due to thirst for moisture invades my ears.

***

“Can you make something without burning it for once?” my brother jokes sarcastically, knocking me out of my gaze. I rush over to egg and flip it. The entire top side is like the bark on a tree. I gag from the dreaded stench of charred poultry that is blended amongst the air.


“Okay you are so funny,” I comment back. “I will take this one I guess.” I flip the bark on my plate, and crack another egg. The sizzle occurs once again. I zone in on the white and yellow goo to ensure I would make an egg, not the russet, rutted outside of a tree. I serve the scrambled fluffy eggs to my brother, and the burnt fried one to myself. Silence is the only noise I hear while we are eating. It is not awkward, but peaceful. We are feeding off of one another’s thoughts that are in the air while generating more. There is no need to explain them; they are known. All of the ideas are spawning off of one main concept- the rhino will be born today. Our lives will never be the same.

The phone call that is being made is more significant than simply dialing seven numbers. I scan the situation as Jackson is forcing each button down so it is even with the gleaming plastic. I finally grasp the thought that these are the final moments of being the youngest. The Rhino will alter the way I live today. I savor the last moments of my life now.

"Alright. Nana and Papa will pick us up in a half hour. They said that it we would have to wait a little bit, but we can eat in the cafeteria while we are waiting," Jackson utters as he is gazing intently at his phone like it is the latest edition of technology that he has never seen.

"Okay. I will go get ready then," I reply already constructing an outfit in my head. One outfit can represent a person's entire personality. I take each step, one-by-one, processing what I need to do. Opening my closet makes 1,000,000,000 creations enter my head. A new black silk tank top catches my eye. Facing the mirror, I adjust my top so it forms to my silhouette flawlessly. Not wanting to be seen as inapporpriate in the hospital, I snatch a wispy tan sweater to veil my shoulders. The bedazzling rhinestones on my Miss Me jeans form a cross on the back pocket. To match the pocket, I slide my feet in black flats that carry a dash of sparkle on the toe. The figure in the mirror stares at me judging every aspect of the clothing I wear, and the figure underneath it. It simply shrugs and turns away. I know in my head I am comfortable with the Rhino catching a glimpse of me for the first time in this outfit.

Glancing at the clock, I realize it is 11:30. I have to think hard to remember what time Jackson called our grandparents. In the middle of my thought, I am interrupted by a voice downstairs.

"Bridget they are here," Jackson hollers from below the balcony. I rush to grab my wallet and race downstairs to the garage to meet Jackson. I catch him in motion opening the door to enter the garage. His outfit causes me to second guess my own. It is a more relaxed, everyday outfit. Simple blue jeans and a navy blue Broncos windbreaker construct his body. I release my tension about what I look like due to my Nana and Papa waiting for us in the drive way.

When waking up on your birthday, and seeing the people who you love, and who love you, there is consistently, without fail, an awkward, yet exiting feeling that surrounds every crease and corner of the room. This very feeling is progressively getting worse during the drive to the hospital. Everyone has an ear to ear grin that utilizes half of our faces. The only talk the ride consists of is about how exited we are. The only problem is I do not know what to be thrilled about. The Rhino will be brought in my life. This very situation is what I have begged my parents for years to happen. My pleads were generated from the place in my mind that craves the new and unknown. I still crave the thought, but am hesitant when it comes to its reality.

The love in my Nana's eyes warms my heart. I strive to be like the woman in front of me. The lady with chic, short hair the color of a quarter is a role model for anyone to look up to. Her eyes, the color of the sky on a perfect day, gleam at me. She knows how I am feeling without words to express myself. Her genuine smile tells me that what is going to come will be truly spectacular. It is right now I know that there is no reason to be anxious. My Papa, who is staring intently on the road to get us to the hospital safely, is talking about the future. He speaks of full time babysitters, crying, but most of all, love. I glance in front of me to the back of his head. The silver spikes of hair on his head shimmer in the rays of sunlight gleaming though the window. His words of wisdom reinforce my Nana's expressions.

The ride that felt like two minutes lead us to the hospital. I have never had any traumatic experiences, so the hospital is a foreign place to me. I follow the lead of my family through the maze of hallways that smell like pure bleach. Every door we pass holds a story unknown to millions of people. The only thought that goes through my mind is wonder. What horrors, or miracles, have happened here? Getting on the elevator breaks the concentration and the wonder I was in. All I can think of now is it is only a matter of time before the Rhino is born.

Walking up to the door on the left side of the hallway does not only put butterflies in my stomach, but an entire zoo. What appears in my vision is my mom in the hospital bed, and my dad sitting in the chair next to her. My mom has her blonde hair down touching her shoulders, and her eyes, the color of the sea, are surrounded by the everyday routine of makeup. Her personality reminds me of her mother's. She is a person that everyone should look up to and strive to be. Witnessing her with tubes in her arm frightens me. It makes me thankful to know that it is to simply assist her, not carry her. The machine the tubes and wires connect to display a variety of lines and numbers that appear to be a jumbled mess to me. My Nana was attentively glaring at the lines. Alas she spoke up.

"I think the nurse should come check again. You contractions seem to be getting closer together," she declares.

"Fifteen minutes ago I was not even close. I guess I could call the nurse to check again," my mom assures. My Nana is a very worrisome person, so sometimes it is difficult to respond to all of her realizations. My mom alerted the nurse to come into the room. Three minutes go by, then the nurse emerges into the room. We all got the notion to step outside. We linger outside the room to hear the news that is expected to consist of how much longer the estimated time is. The nurse shuffles out of the room with a grin on her face. There are no words needed to know what she is going to pronounce.

"We are ready! You guys can wait in the waiting room," she confirms my Nana's thoughts. I guess mothers always know best.

The waiting room is filled with one universal feeling- happiness. I cannot help but to envision the future.

***

"Bridget! You are back! I cannot wait to go to the movies tonight with you. I have missed you so much," the Rhino roars in his high pitched voice untouched by maturity.

"I have missed you too little buddy. I am glad I am home from college finally, even though it is only for a weekend," I respond hugging him. I love this little boy beyond what words can describe.

***

My brief insight into the future is interrupted by seven simple words that are worth more than gold.

"Would you like to come see him?" The nurse questions in a pure voice. Her job is to witness the miracles in the hospital. I cannot get to the door fast enough. As I tentatively walk in, I find my new little brother. The miracle's eyes are shut. His black hair is glued to the top of his petite head. There is now a face to give to the name Ryan. The Rhino was born.