The Bear met my eyes with an intense steely glare (how else would a bear look at a person?). I could see my reflection in his eyes. I was so frightened I couldn't even move. He was a black bear, not like the normal small ones you find in the Rocky Mountains; he was huge. I felt my dad grab a hold of my arm, like he knew what was going to happen. I could sense my family's fear as they stood behind me. I worried about my sister. Was she scared? I worried about my mom. Would she be alright if something happened and my Bear killed me?
My dad's arm kept me anchored, it gave me strength as I faced my greatest fear. And then, in an effortless move, the Bear grabbed my arm and started pulling me away from the people I love most in this world. Dad's hand lost its grip on me, I thought for sure I was going to die.
No, I thought, I can't die today. I have too much to live for. I have a family I love and friends who light up my days - I have to fight. So with my right foot, I put all the strenght I had into it, I kicked the Bear. He was startled, he thought he could take me. He let go for the briefest moment and I ran up the stairs of the deck into the kitchen. I locked the door and ran to the living room, where I collapsed to the floor.
I heard my family come in through the basement door. Unable to move, I said a quick prayer thanking God for saving us. How could I have let my fears affect my family so?
With a start I woke up, realizing that this was a nightmare. I soon drifted back to sleep, but the Bear has been with me for the past three days. Reminding me that the things I fear, the decisions I agonize about at night when I'm trying to go to sleep or in class when I'm trying to listen to my professor, are not as big as they seem and that no matter where I go, I'll always find a way back home.
1 comment:
I cannot fathom why you always tell me you're a bad writer.
Psssshaw, ma'am, psssshaw.
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