It was a Friday afternoon.
My father, his wife and two kids were out walking to the beach with my mom, who’d just gotten home from work.
We’d just finished dinner, and the sky was the color of gold, as the sun dipped over the horizon.
We weren’t at the beach; I was at the office of a real estate agent named John.
We had been driving to the office with my father, who has a medical condition that requires him to wear a mask during office hours.
John had asked me to get him a realtor’s license in his area, and I’d said yes.
I’d bought a car, but that was more of a hobby than anything.
He’d been asking for a real-estate agent for a while, and now I was on his payroll.
My father had a few questions.
“Do you want me to do the background check on you?” he asked.
“Do you have any kids?”
I said yes, but not without a little hesitation.
John was very specific about what he wanted to see in me: a medical history, my credit score, a recent eviction and my home address.
I told him I had three dogs, and he said, “Well, you don’t have a dog, do you?”
I looked up at him, and then I said, in my best Sherlock Holmes voice, “No, I don’t.”
He told me he had one in a wheelchair and said, I know what you’re thinking.
I had a dog.
He didn’t have one.
I wasn’t going to do this, so I left.
We went to the parking lot and, with the sun going down, we pulled up in front of a house with a driveway that led into the ocean.
John called me to come over.
I was wearing a mask, and there was a metal detector on the door.
I looked around, then he put the device on my face and told me to walk in.
I walked in and found a lot of empty lots with no people.
I saw lots of people living in apartments, on a lot that I knew was empty.
John came over and gave me a tour of the house.
He asked me if I was going to buy it.
I said no.
He looked at the listing and said it was going for about $600,000.
He was looking at me.
He asked if I’d be willing to sell it to him.
I told him no, because I didn’t want to put any more money in his account.
Then he asked me what I wanted.
I explained what I was doing, what I didn’s job.
He put the gun to my head.
I didn t know what he was going into, but I was scared.
He said, John, I’m going to make sure you don t get out of here alive.
I thought about it for a moment, then I got scared.
John didn’t say anything to me as he shot me.
I couldn t breathe.
The next day, I was in the hospital.
I’m sure that day I would have gone through the same experience, too, but it wasn’t as bad.
My dad had told me that if I didnot have a lawyer with me, I could still go to jail for not having a license.
I got a license, and after five years of being a licensed real estate broker, I got the license to sell a home.
It wasn’t the happiest day of my life.
I missed my job, my family and friends.
I felt like I was stuck in a dream.
I would never get the license I had dreamed of.
When I got out of the hospital, my doctor said I had my most serious problem: my breathing was so bad that I was losing oxygen to my brain.
I went to my doctor, who told me, My life is over.
That night, I had the worst nightmare of my entire life: my son and my wife had gone to the bathroom together.
The doctor said it would be a while before I could get my oxygen back.
So, I went into the bathroom, pulled my mask off, and started laughing.
I started crying and telling him that I loved him.
That night, my husband told me my son had called to tell me he was leaving, and that he had taken the mask off to go see his girlfriend.
I still can’t believe it.
They were gone, and it was the saddest night of my whole life.
John said that I had told him he was taking me out of this world.
But then, he said I needed to be there to support him, to take care of him, my daughter and my two sons.
My son, I told John, needs you.
He needs me.
John is one of the nicest people I’ve