A couple of years ago, I was robbed at gunpoint and the incident felt like a scene from a movie. The robbers overtook my car and blocked my path at about midnight. Four armed teenagers. The experience was surreal.
They ordered me not to look at their faces as they took my car key, phone and wallet. One of them hit my face with his gun butt to drive home each new instruction. That was when I realized this movie may not have a happy ending. The car was insured and had a tracker. I had no worries about the car. My worry was about the unpredictable actions of the hoodlums who were apparently high on drugs. I feared for my life. They were out of control. I still felt like I was in a movie, and I didn't know when or how this movie was going to end.
Just then, we were caught in the bright glare of headlights as another car approached from the opposite direction. They left me and ran towards the car. They began harassing the other driver and ordered him to lie down on the road. That was when a voice (probably that of the movie director) told me it was my cue to get away. Like a gazelle, I ran down a side street in a zig-zag pattern. I must have broken the current Olympic games record for the distance I ran.
"Stop or we will shoot!" the robbers shouted. But the will to live gave me that extra jolt of speed. Fear and self-preservation propelled me. The robbers beat the other driver to a pulp and took away both cars.
The police got my car back a couple of weeks later during a routine traffic stop.
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