Hearing the cell phone ring and the message, I knew it was time to run, and the only direction to go was away from the broken cell wall and the room in which my oldest was being as brave as he could be.

I bolted down the hall, finding a door that was open and led to stairs. My footfalls echoed loudly in my ears, and my breathing and heartbeat trying to outdo them. I raced up, knowing any second that the door would fly open below me and there would be no where to hide from gun shots. I rested my eyes on the door ahead, just a few more steps!

A door opened, below, and just as adrenaline rushed me forward, the door opened above. I crashed through two kevlar-vested men, diving for the ground. I scraped my palms and elbows on the concrete floor. Strong hands pulled me up.

“Are you okay?”
“They are coming!” I shrieked, but gun shots told the same story. I was led to a black car and shoved inside. That’s when the tears came. I was such a coward! My family was still in there!