hotel sheets are rough against my skin
my fathers face is panicked
his mouth tight and blood leaving his cheeks
when he smiles, i can see even at two years old it doesn't reach his eyes.
outside, mama is screaming three am scary sounds
dad has sweaty hands and sweaty eyes
the car makes screeching sounds on the empty road
as we drive away.
the drive is long and cold and
i'm wearing pajama shorts and goose bumps on my legs
once a police officer in a shiny car stops us
motions to roll down the window
asks if we know we are speeding
in my sleepiness i hear jumbled explanations
"....baby came early...trying to get to hospital...emergency..."
i know that word is a bad one.
the officer frowns, looks at me, says
"you have another baby in the backseat