A Race Against Time
On the morning of my medical college entrance exam, I woke up late to find that all my alarms were mysteriously turned off. As I hurried to get ready, my 8-year-old brother stepped in with a plan that would save the day.
Since I was young, I dreamed of becoming a doctor. After my mom died of cancer, that dream became even stronger. I wanted to help people like her, learn more about the disease that took her away, and support others in their battles against it.
Source: Pexels
I worked for this moment for years, going through late nights, countless books, and more exams than I could count. Today, all that hard work was about to pay off: it was finally the day of my medical entrance exam.
Last night, I did everything to make sure I wouldn’t oversleep. I set three alarms on my phone—6:00 a.m., 6:15 a.m., and 6:30 a.m. I even left my curtains open so that the sunlight would wake me up. As I lay in bed, I thought of my mom and promised myself that I’d make her proud.
When I opened my eyes the next morning, something felt wrong. It was dark, too dark. I reached for my phone, and my heart sank—9:55 a.m. My exam started at 10:00.
“No, no, no! This can’t be happening!” I threw off my blankets and grabbed my phone. All three alarms were turned off.
“I know I set these!” I muttered, my hands shaking as I got dressed quickly. My mind raced with questions. How did this happen?
I bolted down the stairs, half-dressed, with my hair everywhere. “Linda!” I called out, desperately looking for my stepmom. “Linda, please! I need a ride to the college. My exam is in five minutes!”
She was in the kitchen, sipping her coffee calmly, watching me with a look I couldn’t quite understand. She raised an eyebrow, giving me a look that was as cold as her coffee cup was hot.
“You’re late already,” she said flatly. “Maybe next time, you should learn to set an alarm properly.”
“I did set them!” I almost shouted, feeling frustrated and panicked. “I triple-checked. They were on, all three of them.”
She shrugged, a slight smirk on her lips. “Clearly, you didn’t. Maybe this is a sign that you’re not cut out for med school. If you can’t even wake up on time, how will you handle something serious, like a patient?”
I stood there, feeling my face grow hot, my mind swirling with disbelief and desperation. This couldn’t be real. My stepmom wouldn’t do this to me, would she?
I turned toward the door, knowing I’d never make it on foot but feeling I had to try. Just as I reached for the handle, I heard a small voice behind me.
“I know who did it,” my little brother Jason said, his voice shaky but his eyes steady.
I turned, confused. “Jason, what are you talking about?”
He took a small step forward, looking at Linda cautiously. “I saw her. Last night. She turned off your alarms, Emily.”
Linda shot him a sharp look. “Jason, stop making up stories,” she hissed.
Jason gulped but didn’t back down. “I’m not lying! I saw you go into her room, pick up her phone, and turn off the alarms. You said she didn’t need to be at that stupid exam anyway.”
My mind was spinning. I looked at Linda, searching her face for denial, for any sign she’d say it was a misunderstanding. But she just sighed, crossing her arms.
“You know what, Emily?” she said coolly, her voice hardening. “Fine. Yes, I did it. You’re not fit to be a doctor. It’s a waste of time and money that your dad could spend on something worthwhile.”
“Like… your beauty salon?” The words slipped out before I could stop them.
Just as I was about to push past her and leave, I heard sirens in the distance, getting louder as they approached our house.
Jason, now holding my hand, gave me a small, hopeful smile. “Don’t worry, Em. I called for help.”
Linda’s face hardened as she looked at Jason, who stood by my side. “You seriously did this?” she asked, barely able to speak.
Jason’s small voice cut through the tension. “You are the bad guy, Linda,” he said, his eyes fierce despite his small size. “Emily is going to be a doctor one day. Mom would be proud of her.”
Linda’s face twisted, and before she could say anything, the wailing sirens outside grew louder. I watched her look toward the window, her eyes widening with surprise.
The front door opened, and two police officers stepped inside. One of them, a tall man, spoke with calm authority. “Is everything alright here?”
Jason didn’t hesitate. “I called you,” he said, standing tall despite his age. “My sister needs to get to her entrance exam. Linda turned off her alarms so she’d miss it.”
The officer’s eyes moved to Linda, who immediately pretended to be innocent. “This is absurd!” she scoffed, folding her arms. “They’re just children, making things up because they’re late.”
But the other officer, a woman with kind eyes, knelt down to Jason’s level. “You called us to help your sister?” she asked gently.
Jason nodded vigorously. “Yes. Emily studied so hard, and she was ready. Linda turned off her alarms so she’d miss her test.”
The officers exchanged glances, then turned to me. “Is that true?” the male officer asked.
“Yes,” I whispered, feeling the weight of everything settle over me. “I have to get to my college right now, or I’ll lose my chance to take the exam.”
The officers nodded and exchanged another glance. “Alright, young lady,” the female officer said, standing up, “We’re going to get you there.”
Linda’s face twisted with disbelief. “Wait, you’re actually going to escort her?” she stammered, frustration evident in her voice. “This is ridiculous!”
“It’s our job to help people,” the officer replied, coolly dismissing Linda. “Now, if you’ll excuse us.”
I turned to Jason, who was smiling proudly, a little hero in his own right. “Thank you, Jason,” I whispered, hugging him tight. “You saved me.”
As I left with the officers, Linda’s face showed a mix of fury and disbelief. The officers helped me into their squad car, and we sped down the road with the sirens blaring, weaving through traffic as we approached the college. My heart pounded in my chest, but this time, it was with determination.
At the exam center, we arrived just minutes before the doors were set to close. The officers stepped out with me, guiding me toward the entrance.
One of the proctors noticed us and approached, looking confused. “Ma’am, the exam is about to begin,” he said, glancing at the officers.
The policewoman explained quickly. “This young lady had her alarms sabotaged at home, but she’s here now. I understand if you can’t make exceptions, but if there’s any way she can sit for the exam…”
The proctor’s stern face softened as he listened. He looked me in the eyes, as if weighing my sincerity, then gave a brief nod. “Alright. Go on in.”
“Thank you,” I managed, barely believing I’d made it.
I found my seat, still shaken but refusing to let the morning’s events get the best of me. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes for a moment, and thought of my mom. This was my moment, and I wasn’t going to let anyone take it from me. I picked up my pencil and began the test.
Hours later, I walked out of the exam room, exhausted but relieved. The officers who had helped me were gone, but I felt their kindness with every step as I headed home. Jason was waiting on the front steps, and he jumped up as soon as he saw me.
“Did you do it?” he asked eagerly, his eyes bright with hope.
I nodded, a smile breaking out despite my exhaustion. “I did, thanks to you.”
He threw his arms around me. “I knew you could.”
Inside, my dad was waiting. His face was pale, and his mouth was set in a grim line. He had been waiting for me to come home to hear everything. Jason took the lead, explaining every detail of what had happened while I was gone.
My dad’s face grew red with anger, his eyes narrowing as he looked over at Linda, who was trying to look calm and unaffected. “Is this true?” he demanded, his voice trembling with restrained fury.
Linda’s eyes darted between us. “I… I was just trying to keep her from a mistake. I didn’t mean for it to go so far,” she mumbled, finally looking cornered.
“You sabotaged her dreams because of your own selfishness,” my dad said coldly. “You’re not staying here another night.”
Linda’s face turned pale as she realized he was serious. She tried to protest, but he shook his head firmly. “Pack your things, Linda. This family deserves better than this.”
Jason and I stood by the door, watching as she finally left. There was no satisfaction in it, just a sense of justice and relief.
I Incurred a $500 Fine When My Neighbor Falsely Accused My Son of Her Toddler’s Hallway Scribbles — I Couldn’t Let It Go
Caitlin often found herself informally supervising her neighbor Stacy’s young son, Nate, providing him some stability while his mom sought time for herself. However, when Nate decorated the hallway walls with doodles during Caitlin’s absence, she was unjustly slapped with a $500 fine. Determined to set things right, Caitlin devised a plan for retribution.
Stacy had become accustomed to letting her young son, Nate, roam the hallway as a play area.
“It’s safe, Caitlin,” she’d assure me. “Plus, it’s their version of outdoor play.”
She would then retreat behind her door, leaving Nate to his devices, often while she entertained guests.
“I just need some downtime,” she confessed to me once in the laundry room. “I’m a grown woman with needs, you know. Being a single mom, you must get it.”
I understood her need for personal space, but I could never imagine letting my own son, Jackson, wander the hallways alone. Despite our general familiarity with the neighbors, the corridors didn’t feel completely secure.
Jackson, slightly older than Nate, seemed concerned about the younger boy, who often loitered alone, clutching his tattered teddy bear.
“Mom,” Jackson would say during his playtime, “maybe we should invite him over.”
Grateful for my son’s compassion, I agreed. It was better to keep both children within sight, ensuring their safety.
Thus, we began having Nate over for snacks, toys, and movies—a simple arrangement that brought him noticeable joy.
“He mentioned he likes playing with others,” Jackson noted one day. “I don’t think his mom spends much time with him.”
And interestingly, Stacy hardly acknowledged this setup. Once she realized Nate was safe with us, she seemed to extend her leisure time even more.
Eventually, it became routine for Nate to knock on our door whenever his mother let him out.
“Hello,” he’d say, teddy in hand. “I’m here to play.”
However, one day, we were away at my parents’ house for my mom’s birthday.
“I hope Nate will be okay,” Jackson expressed concern as we drove.
“Oh, honey,” I responded. “His mom is there. She’s responsible for his safety too.”
Upon our return, we were greeted by hallway walls covered in childish drawings—a colorful chaos of stick figures and squiggles.
“Nate must have had fun,” I remarked, searching for my keys.
“Isn’t he going to be in trouble?” Jackson asked, eyeing the artwork.
Leave a Reply