A Night of Fear

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
It's amazing how one night of fear can chage your outlook.

Submitted: April 23, 2007

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Submitted: April 23, 2007

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The warm summer breeze blew gently through my bedroom window, the soft ivory curtains swaying back and forth as to say "good night."The full harvest moon shone through the curtains giving the room an iridescent feel.  I was in and out of  a dreamy sleep when I woke up with the startling noise of the doorbell.  I glanced to my right where my alarm clock sat on top my nightstand.  I let my sleepy eyes focus on the red numbers.  I noticed it was only 2:28 a.m.  At that moment my young teenage life changed completely.
There was a Bang! Bang! Bang! on the front screen door.  Ding dong, ding dong, the door bell rang.  My heart was racing faster than a horse at the Kentucky Derby.  My body filled with fear and anxiety at the same time.  Across the hall, my parents' bedroom door flew open.  
"Stay in your room!" my dad said with a stern commanding voice.
"What's going on?" I nervously asked.
"Stay in your room.  I'm going to find out," my dad said in more of a calming voice, as he must have sensed I was scared.
The door bell kept ringing, and the pounding on the front door became more panicked.  My mom raced out of her room behind my dad.  My dad told my mom to stay put also but she didn't listen.  
"Help, help!  Please hurry!" screamed a man with a boisterous voice.
I began to tremble and felt myself getting more scared.  Thoughts ran through my head: "Is someone hurt? Is it a robber trying to get in?"  Everything was happening so fast, yet it seemed time was standing still as I could feel every sensation race through my body.  
I couldn't wait in my room any more.  I raced down the short hallway past the bathroom and into the dining room just as the heavy oak door swung open.  My heart was racing even faster, and I had started to cry out of fear.  I could not see out the door from where I stood by the over sized oak dining room table.  I was clenching a chair with a padded back with my right hand; I was holding myself up against the wall with my left hand as I began to feel weak.  Tears ran down my face, my body shook, and goose bumps covered every inch of my body.  I glanced at my father's unshaved face in the dim-lit room.  He looked like he was struck with horror.  His face was ghostly as he struggled to speak or to even move.   
A tall, slender, middle-aged man with balding gray hair, wearing blue jeans and a white t-shirt entered the room.  He wasn't alone.  Instantly my mother grabbed the black cordless phone off the counter in the kitchen that joined with the dining room.  
"Come quick! He's hurt badly!" my mom screamed in a crying voice as she spoke with the 911 operator.  "Please hurry!"
I recognized the man as a neighbor that lived about a mile east on the highway that ran in front of our house.  I was in a dazed, confused state when I noticed the man was holding up someone that was slouched over him.  Still not understanding what was happening, I spotted blood dripping on the tan carpet like a leaky faucet.  My dad helped the man lay the person on the floor.  My dad turned even paler.  He gasped knowing the injured man, who was fighting for his life, as his son.
"I'm sorry, Dad," the injured man said faintly as his bloody eyes rolled back in his head, and he passed out.
Fear came over me as I recognized him as my brother.  I started to scream uncontrollably.  I felt the sudden embrace of my mother as she was crying.  The neighbor came over to us and calmly quieted us.  He assured us the ambulance was on the way.  
"Please stay with us! We need you," my dad whispered to my brother as he lay there helpless.  
I fell to the floor and began to sway back and forth, sobbing, begging God not to take my brother.  Mom was leaning over my brother crying and asking herself, "Why?"  Sirens were coming nearer.  The neighbor explained he had found my brother wandering on the highway aimlessly, delirious, and bloody.  The neighbor had pulled over to help my brother and recognized who he was and knew he lived down the road about two miles from where he had found my brother.  The neighbor looked around to see what might have happened as he noticed a car wrapped around a road sign just ahead.  He helped my brother get into his own car and quickly ran to make sure there was no one else in the car.  He then raced back to his car and drove to our house on the edge of town to get help.  
The ambulance had arrived a few seconds later, although it seemed to be an eternity, and the paramedics immediately began to work on my brother.  A man on the ambulance crew was also my driver's education teacher.  We just had our first day of class that previous afternoon.  My instructor told the rest of the crew to continue to get my brother into the ambulance.  
He came over to me.  "Everything will be okay.  I know you are scared, but you need to stay positive.  I promise things will be okay," my instructor urged.
"Promise me?" I replied.
"Promise," he said.
The ambulance sped off with the sirens blaring.  I stood on the porch and through my tear filled eyes, watched the ambulance drive off.  
We met the ambulance at the hospital, which was 40 miles north.We were greeted by a short, older nurse with white hair.  She said that my brother was in surgery and that the doctors would be out shortly to let us know what was happening.  As we waited in the family room, emotions were running through me so fast I couldn't understand what had happened.  
"I will never drive!" I exclaimed.  "I refuse to go back to class!"
Just then my instructor came through the door and sat beside me.  He put his arm around me and quietly sat there with me.  He knew how scared I was, not only for my brother, but of learning to drive as well.
"He is going to be just fine, but he will need to be hospitalized for a few days," the doctor came in and explained.
My dad, mom, and I hugged each other.  Tears started to flow out of relief instead of fear.  I turned around to thank my instructor, but he wasn't there.  This was a major turning point in my teenage years.  I never went back to driver's education class.  I was too scared at first, then ashamed of not returning right away.  The years went by quickly, and I received my driver's license when I was 19.  Although my brother was okay, I will never forget that night that changed my teenage life.


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