A terrifying roar startles me, and I know this is no joke. Beads of sweat rolled down my face, and my dress became caught in the wheels of my wheelchair. My hands sting like crazy thanks to the blisters that have popped open on my hands.

As I’m frantically wheeling trying to catch up with him, my son looks at me with those big green eyes, a stream of drool and a gapped tooth smile. I must get to him before it’s too late. I let my dress get caught in my wheels so bad that it tears from my body.

He runs further ahead of me. Zookeepers are frantically urging guests to leave. I need to get help, I can’t do this on my own. But the crowds are overwhelming. “PLEASE I AM DISABLED AND MY SON HAS GOTTEN AWAY FROM MY REACH.” I shout, but my plea goes unheard in a sea of people.

The crowd has become so thick that I can no longer see Jackson. I feel helpless and paralyzed with fear. Where is the tiger? Where is Jackson? I look from person to person, hoping they will notice me, but not likely. In this swarm of people, I am sitting and everyone else stands, towering a couple feet taller than me.

I spot my baby boy next to a bench and water fountain. Feeling hopeful again, I wheel to him as fast as possible. Finally I catch him. I close my eyes, overwhelmed with relief that we are reunited.

People begin to scream and my eyes pop open. The tiger is a few feet from us. It makes a deep “MOW” sound and approaches Jackson and I. In one swift motion, the tiger reaches his paw up and smacks my face. Jackson’s tiny body goes flying from my arms.

Everything goes black…