The interior of the ambulance was a strange mix of chaos and calm. The equipment beeped steadily, a mechanical lullaby that cut through the silence like the howling wind outside. The ambulance wasn't just a vehicle; it was a cocoon, surrounding us — my parents, still unconscious on the medical beds, and me, pressed into the leather seat by a mix of anxiety and a surreal feeling I couldn't quite understand. Outside, the world was painted white; snowflakes floated like restless spirits beneath the dull gray sky.
I gripped the edge of the seat, my thoughts swirling in tantalizing eddies. How had I ended up here, in this strange land with its odd charm? Part of me felt like an outsider, a visitor peeking behind the curtain of a play I hadn't auditioned for. Still, as the cold wind rattled the
