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That night, I had a nightmare, I was in the waiting room of my clinic, about to call my next patient, when someone burst in with a machine gun and started shooting at everyone. I woke up with a scream.

"Sh...! It's okay I'm here!" Alan comforted and held me.

My parents ran into our room.

"What's going on?" my mom asked.

"Just a bad dream" I told her, trying to sound dismissive about it. "I'll be fine."

"Are you sure?" Dad worried. "I brought some camomile tea from home."

I did feel shaken, so I said. "Maybe a little tea might help."

"I'll make it for you." Alan got his robe. Soon, the four of us were in the kitchen.

"What was your dream, baby?" Mom asked.

"Nothing worth mentioning" I said as she filledturned on the electric kettle. Dad got put the tea bag in a cup.

"But you screamed!" she insisted.

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The fact that they hadn't knocked had bothered me a bit. Natalie's getting shot must have really shaken them. Reluctantly, she told us the nightmare.

"Sounds like PTSD." Frank said with concern. "Maybe you should go see a therapist?"

"Dad..." Nat protested.

"You should learn how to use a gun!" he suggested to myhorror.

"What?" I gave him a 'what the hell?' look.

"A friend of mine told me thatlearning how to use a gun was very therapeutic for him after getting robbed at gunpoint" Frank explained to me. "because it helped himwith that sense of powerlessness. What Nat's been through was also violent."

"Don could teach her." Hannah continued.

"Guys... I don't think so..." Nat shook her head.

"It's late, why don't we all go back to bed?" I suggested to avoid an argument.

"Will you be alright?" Hannah asked.

After a bit,we allwent to bed.

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It took me a while to get to sleep, the dream had greatly disturbed me. I woke up around eight.

By the time a week and a half passed, things got a little strained.

"Are your boys visiting again?" Mom asked when she saw Alan take out steaks from a paper bag once he returned from the store. We were serving ourselves water.

"Yeah"

"Need help with the cooking?"

"It's just going to be steak and mashed potatoes. Don's favorite" Alan told her. I was feeling better and walking around, but not quite up to going to work.

"Would you like me to make my famous macaroni and cheese?" she offered. "I pu tthree kinds of cheeses in it."

"Maybe tomorrow Hannah" Alan put salt and pepper on several steaks.

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"Are you sure you don't need help, babe?" Nat asked me.

"I'll be fine" I assured her." I was happy that Nat's physical recovery seemed to be going well, though she still had nightmares once in a while.Her two siblings called and checked up on her.

Hannah was a nice, smart woman, but cooking with her was a bother. The kitchen wasn't that big, and we'd both be needing to use the same thing, for looking for something in the same cabinet. Plus she was a messy cook.

Nat's father, yet again to my annoyance, brought up the gun thing, but this time with Don.At dinner, Frank asked him "Do you think that learning to use a gun would be therapeutic for Natalie?"

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I diplomaticallyreplied "It's been known to help some people after being victims of violent crimes". I could feel Dad's glare from two seats down.

"Is the steak the way you want it Donnie?" Dad asked to change the subject.

"Yeah..." I said and put a piece in my mouth. It didnt' surprise me that Dad disliked the idea. Smartly, he kept the conversation away from this topic.

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A while afterdinner, when Frank went into the kitchen , I followed him in there to have a talk.

"Frank, I understand your concern, but maybe learning how to use a gun isn't the best thing for Natalie" I told him, as he opened the fridge and got a beer.

"I know my daughter, Alan. It'll do her good."

"It sounds like you're projecting"

"Projecting? What could you have against this? Don has a gun!" He opened the beer bottle.

"His life depends on having it." I reminded him. "I totally understand what you are going through, but getting a gun is not the answer for Nat." She had never expressed an interest in learning how to shoot.

"Hey guys.." Don said.He had come in without us noticing.Frank and I stopped arguing. "Is everything all right?"

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I had heard some of the fighting when I got in.

"Just a minor difference of opinion, Don"Nat's dadshrugged casually. "About Nat's getting a gun"

"Maybe..uh..she should be the one to decide" I said carefully while getting my own beer.

"You'd teach her?" Nat's Dad asked.

"Is that what she wants? "I asked. After all, it was her decision. Besides, I knew how Dad would feel about my offering to teach her. Then, I had an idea.

"Megan teaches Krav Maga at the Y. Maybe Nat could take lessons?" I suggested. It was a martial art from Israel that focused more on self defense than art.

"Sounds like a good idea" dad said. "I'll talk to Nat about it."

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Alan, and my Dad were taking a little too long in the kitchen, but before I could go check on them, they and Don returned.

"Hon, Don was just telling me that Megan, one of his team members, teaches Krav Maga at the Y. Maybe you'd like to take some lessons?"

"Lessons?" I thought about it. I had felt so helpless that day, when I had gotten shot. This vulnerability has made me startle easily and have nightmares. Maybe it might do me good? "Sure."

I asked Don for Megan's number, and called her.

"Reeves?"

"Hi! Megan! It's Natalie.."

"Hi! How are you?" She asked with concern.

"Good..I was wondering if you had room in your Krav Maga class? "

"I've got a few spaces left."

"Great! When do you have them?"

She told me the schedule, and I promised to start as soon as the doctor gave the okay.

Soon, I told my parents about my desicion.

"That's a great idea sweetheart!" Dad told me. "Trust me, you'll feel better, and have more peace of mind. I heard that with Krav Maga, you can fight against an armed person!" Dad and I were in the living room.

"Nat just wants to learn self defense, not how to be a body guard!" Mom teased him.

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The next day, in the break room, I thanked Megan for letting Natalie into her class.

"I don't mind" she said and stirred her coffee. "And I'll tell her that if she needs someone to talk with outside of class, she can count on me."

"Thanks! She only used to worry about getting scratched or bitten" I told her.

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Before I knew it, time passed, my folks left and the stitches were out, and I went to take my first Krav Maga class.

TBC