The morning of my medical entrance exam, the day I’d been waiting and working for, I woke up in a panic. I grabbed my phone, feeling my heart sink—it was 9:55 a.m., only five minutes before my exam was set to begin! Somehow, all my alarms had been turned off. The realization hit me hard: everything I’d dreamed of and studied for was on the line.
My path to becoming a doctor, the goal I’d held close since I was a kid, now seemed almost out of reach. But in that desperate moment, my little brother Jason, only 8 years old, did something so brave that it turned my day around.
Since I was young, becoming a doctor was my dream. After my mother passed away from cancer, that dream only grew stronger. I wanted to understand the illness that had taken her and do something meaningful to help others, to give them hope and healing. For years, I worked harder than ever, staying up late to study, preparing myself for this one chance.
To make sure I’d wake up on time, I set three alarms and left my curtains open to let in the morning sunlight. I even thought of my mother before bed, promising myself, “I’m going to make you proud.” But when I opened my eyes, something was wrong—it was still dark. I grabbed my phone and froze. 9:55 a.m.! My stomach twisted with dread as I realized all my alarms were off.
In a rush, I dashed downstairs to find my stepmother, Linda. She was in the kitchen, sipping her coffee, watching me with a strange expression that made me feel even more uneasy. I practically begged, “Linda, please, can you drive me to my exam?”
She looked at me with a smirk, her voice as cold as her gaze. “You’re already late,” she said, shrugging. “Maybe you’re just not cut out for medical school.”
Her words hurt deeply, but I didn’t have time to let them sink in. I had to get to the exam, and I was ready to run if I had to. Just then, I heard a small, determined voice. It was my brother, Jason. He took a deep breath and said, “I know what happened.”
I looked at him, surprised, and he stepped closer, his face serious. “I saw her last night. Linda came into your room and turned off your alarms.”
Linda’s smirk vanished, replaced by an angry scowl. “You wouldn’t have made it anyway,” she sneered. “Becoming a doctor is a waste of time and money.”
I could hardly believe her cruelty, but Jason wasn’t done. He squeezed my hand and said, “I called for help.” A second later, sirens wailed outside, and two police officers arrived. Jason, standing bravely beside me, explained everything he had seen. The officers listened and, realizing the urgency, offered me a ride to my exam.
With Jason cheering me on, I hopped into the squad car, and we sped through the streets, sirens blaring. I arrived just in time, breathless but determined. The proctors, moved by my story, let me take my seat. As I began my test, I felt my mother’s memory with me, urging me to keep going.
Hours later, I emerged from the exam, exhausted but incredibly relieved. When I got home, Jason was waiting with a big smile. We told our dad everything that had happened. Dad listened quietly, then turned to Linda with a firm look and said, “I think it’s best for you to leave.”
Jason had done more than get me to my exam—he had revealed Linda’s betrayal and shown incredible bravery. Thanks to him, my dream was still within reach, and I knew that our mother would have been so proud of him.
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