The holiday had been going completely fine. Bright skies, clear oceans and hot weather. The perfect family holiday, right? Not so much.

And then it happened. The tide pulled back, and within minutes a big wall of water was headed your way. Screams and cries filled the streets, the sound of water crashing and buildings collapsing echoing in your ears.

And then silence. 15 hours later. It was the next day. The water had gone down, but the streets were still somewhat flooded. Rescue teams had been sent out. Military forces, SWAT teams, fire engines, helicopters, any type of rescue team just sent out to find survivors. A lot of people had managed to get to an airport and on a plane after the tsunami hit, unfortunately you and your older brother — Daniel — couldn’t.

Daniel silently wandered through the streets, gripping your small hand tightly. Damnit. You were still only a toddler, and just experienced the most traumatic thing a person could. For a moment he paused, hearing shouting from behind him.

“Hey- wait!” A voice called down. Daniel felt a sense of relief as he turned around. It was a military team, the 141. A man with a Mohawk — Soap — had been the one to call.

“Hey, come here. We’re one of the rescue teams, we’ll get you safe and to a hospital.” Soap said gently, taking a few steps forwards as his eyes darted down to you, noticing your small hight and young appearance. A toddler.

He pulled out his radio as he continued to move towards you both, speaking into it. “I’ve found two survivors, one teenager and one toddler.” He muttered before hooking it back onto his belt.