Copyright© 2020 by Olga Chinka
I’m in a field surrounded by flowers. Warm sunlight beams down on my face. I twirl around and see flowers for miles in each direction. A calmness washes over me as I lay down onto the lush grass and close my eyes.
When I open them, I am no longer in the field. I am in a room, laying on a bed with an IV attached to my arm. I start to panic as my mom rushes over, shushing me and saying everything is okay.
I look around and realize that I am at the hospital. There is a burning pain in my throat, and I feel like I have been hit by a truck.
My whole family surrounds me. My sister hugs me with tears streaming down her face. “I’m so happy you’re alive Rachel!” she whispers in my ear without letting go.
“What happened?” I manage to get out. My voice is hoarse, and it burns to talk.
“You were attacked” my dad explains barely containing his anger. “Mr. Whitmore broke into your room and tried to strangle you.”
I vaguely remember his face in the darkness. So full of rage.
“I stabbed him!” Jane chimes in. “I heard a noise coming from your room, so I ran and got a knife from the kitchen. When I ran into your room, he was on top of you! I stabbed him as hard as I could in his back.”
She looked so proud of herself. “It made him let go of you. He was flailing his arms around trying to pull out the knife, so I pushed him through the open window! He fell right out and landed in mom’s garden!”
“She saved your life Rachel” my dad says proudly, wrapping his arm around Jane.
“Dead?” I ask, amazed that my sister had fought off a grown man trying to kill me.
“No, he’s alive” my mom responds. “Jane was screaming at the top of her lungs for us to call police. They came right away.”
“Good” I whisper in relief.