The night before my college entrance exam, I made sure to set multiple alarms, determined not to miss the opportunity that could shape my future. My dream of becoming a doctor, particularly an oncologist, was not only driven by my passion for medicine but also by the memory of my mom, who had passed away from cancer. I wanted to help others fight the same battle she did, and it felt like the best tribute I could give her.
However, when I awoke the next morning, everything was wrong. I didn’t hear my alarms. In a panic, I grabbed my phone and discovered that they had been turned off. A wave of dread washed over me as I realized the exam was only minutes away. My heart raced—this was my one shot at medical school, and I was about to miss it.
A Cruel and Heartless Response
I threw on some clothes and rushed downstairs, hoping for some help. There, I found my stepmom, Linda, casually sipping her coffee. In a voice trembling with urgency, I explained what had happened and begged her to drive me to the exam center. But instead of compassion, she offered a chilling response, “You should have set your alarm. Maybe this is a sign you’re not meant for med school.” Her words felt like a stab in the chest, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that she was somehow pleased by my crisis.
With no other option, I began walking, the distance between my home and the exam center seeming endless. I knew my chances of making it in time were slim.
A Hero Emerges: My Little Brother Jason
Just as I was about to lose hope, my little brother, Jason, called out to me. “Em, I’ve got a surprise for you. Help is on the way!” I was confused, but before I could ask him what he meant, the sound of sirens grew louder. To my surprise, a police car pulled up beside me.
Jason quickly explained what had really happened: “Em, it was Linda who turned off your alarms. I saw her sneaking into your room during the night.”
Linda, now caught, made no attempt to deny it. She admitted to sabotaging my chances because she disagreed with my dad’s plan to fund my medical school. She had her own agenda—to open a beauty salon, and she believed my dad should be investing in her business instead.
The Officers Step In
At that moment, the police arrived. Jason’s revelation left Linda no room to lie. One of the officers, a kind woman, turned to Linda and asked if the story was true. Of course, Linda denied everything, but the officers seemed unimpressed by her response.
“We’re here to help people,” the female officer said with a calm yet firm tone. “Let’s get you to your exam.”
A Narrow Escape
We made it to the exam center just in time, but as we arrived, the doors were already closed. A proctor, clearly aware of the late arrival, approached us with a stern expression. “You’re late for the exam,” he said, visibly puzzled.
I felt overwhelmed, still in shock from everything that had happened, and struggled to find the right words. But before I could speak, the officers intervened, explaining how I had been sabotaged by a family member. The proctor’s expression softened as he listened, and after a moment of hesitation, he nodded and allowed me to take a seat.
Relief and Gratitude
The exam itself felt like a blur as I focused on the questions before me, grateful for the opportunity to take it despite the chaotic morning. When I finally emerged from the exam room, relief washed over me, and I couldn’t help but feel immense gratitude for my little brother, Jason, who had saved the day.
The Fallout at Home
When I returned home, my dad was waiting for me. He enveloped me in a warm, reassuring hug, but I could see the anger in his eyes. Jason had already filled him in on everything, but my dad wanted to hear the full story from me. As I recounted the morning’s events, his face flushed with fury. It was clear this was the final straw.
He turned to Linda, his voice cold and resolute, and instructed her to pack her belongings. “Your presence is no longer welcome here,” he said firmly. Though my dad had realized long ago that Linda wasn’t a good fit for their family, this incident had sealed her fate. She had crossed a line that could never be undone.
