At the age of 8 years old, something traumatic occurred to me. It was supposed to be a normal day. I had just won a medal at a soccer tournament called Albion. My team were winning non-stop, so it was no surprise we won yet again. I has just finished taking some pictures with my trophy and medal, and congratulating my teammates. My sister’s championship game was still going on at the moment, so my mom and I decided to head over there to go watch the second half. My mom sat down with my dad and they continued to watch the game. I headed over to the corner of the field and hung out with some younger kids. As the game went on, we built this box made out of sticks that went up to our knees. I stood inside of the box feeling the cool breeze and watching my sister dominate the opposing team. I was interrupted by screams coming from the back of the event. I immediately look towards the other fields and see a herd of people running and screaming, “RUN!” They signal everyone to the exit and I see the whole sideline get up. Without thinking twice, I jump over the sticks and run. I look over and see my sister’s team running as well. I can’t see my sister or my parents, but I continue running. Everyone swarms the exit, creating human traffic. I squeeze through and finally I find my self in the parking lot alone. I see people getting in their cars, people running with their kids, and I suddenly freeze. Thoughts fill my head, but then I feel someone call my name. “Bibi!” I look over and see my teammate and her mom. They decided to watch my sister’s game too and must have saw me running by myself. They grab my hand and we rush over to a large grey truck. We hid behind the tire and the world goes quiet. Not one movement. My teammate asks, “mom what’s going on?” Her mom is quiet and has nothing to say. There is nothing to say. One second we were peacefully watching a game and now we are here hiding behind whatever is going on out there. I think about my parents and how I’d probably never see them, and my sister who I desperately need most in this world. I think about what happened to them and what will happen to me. It was like a nightmare that came to life. I instantly get startled by a man yelling, “BIBI!” I recognize the voice, it’s my dad! I peek out of my hiding spot and feel overjoyed at the sight of my father. I give him a hug and cry for a moment. I feel relieved and saved. We walk back to the field where it all started. My teammate has already left after that. My sister and her whole team come back with dust and dirt all over their shirts. My sister later told me that her team and a pregnant soccer mom had all run up to an abandoned house on a hill. There was sharp metal pieces that cut some of them. Luckily no one was severely hurt. On the other hand, my parents indeed start running, but the paused and didn’t know what they were running from. They were smart and actually walked back to the field and tried to gather some other parents. One of the parents was a police officer and as everyone found their kids, he told us what we should have done next time. Which was to run straight to our parents. We also found out the reason for the whole situation was because of a referee that made a bad call. This caused the parents to start fighting. One of the parents wanted to scare the others so he pulled out his gun from his pocket. Everyone freaked out and ran for their lives. Although he didn’t hurt or shoot anybody, he was still in big trouble. After that day, I slowly recovered from that traumatizing experience and I eventually got over it. To this day, It’s still hard to return to that field and play the tournament Albion. I can still see the crowed exit, I can still hear the screams, and I can feel the relieving hug my dad gave me.