Highway Surprise

By Yitschock Romain

It was a dark, cold night on the Jerusalem Highway. I

was asleep on the bus ride home after a fun-filled
weekend spent with my cousins in Safed. All was
peaceful, until a deafening shot woke me. Through
the window, I saw a gang of armed terrorists driving
alongside our bus.
Suddenly the air was filled with the sound of gunfire
and the subsequent screams. Bullets ripped through
the bus’s wall as the passengers shrieked with fright
or pain. It was utter chaos. My mother shielded me
with her own body as my window exploded.
The driver floored the accelerator as the terrorists
pursued us in their own vehicles. It wasn’t long
before we heard sirens. Just then, our bus broke
down. We fled the bus as the police and terrorists
exchanged gunfire. As more officers arrived on the
scene, the terrorists were forced to flee.
When the last echoing shot had died down, I stared
at our ruined bus. I stared at the bullet holes. I
stared at the shattered windows. And I stared at the
blood. My family and I were okay physically, if not
mentally. Not everyone was as lucky, however.
This horrifying incident, as traumatic as it may have
been, at least showed me the immense sacrifice
that my loving mother would undergo for me.
The above story is true, however the facts were exaggerated.