My most valuable possession was my house. It wasn’t anything fancy or exquisite, but it was there that I had spent the precious moments, however few, with my beloved dad. I remember that we would spend hours playing, running around the arched, brightly lit corridors. On either side, I recall the large mahogany doors which would fluidly open to reveal ancient, chestnut-brown rooms with antique, twin bed frames which were confined within. I will never forget the uncanny gargoyles that were suspended onto the wall behind, the very same monsters who would assault my sleep and curse me with countless numbers of sleepless nights. And of course, there was our camp, situated right behind the house. Our own little hideout. Every other week we would
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In the minuscule part of the world where I resided, it was known as the month of festivities. Every year the people would decorate their houses and light oil lamps or candles at nightfall. To commemorate this event, the otherwise pitch black night would now be filled with fierce dancing lights, loud songs would reverberate under the full moon.
But not this year. This year, the month began with hailstorms. Gusts of wind forced everyone to stay inside and put aside the festivities. Heavy rains swallowed the lands, flooding through the crops. Saturday 12th was one such day. We knew something was coming. As dusk fell, a grey curtain floated above the land, flooding over the full moon. The winds were stronger, faster. It came without warning barreling straight from the east. As night fell the dark grey fog attacked, pouncing upon its prey; it swept up the land and drifted over the water, leaving an eerie uproar in its wake.
A storm pursued it. It cascaded down, spraying jets of water and hail. I ran to the window. Lightning flashed, thunder rang but dad still hadn’t returned. Then I saw it: a wide, violent rotating column of air had extended from the thunderstorm. It sprinted forward, tearing through the dark land. It pulled the trees and hurled humans and vehicles …show more content…
Warm blood was oozing out of my freezing body. The tornado was near, gaining from the east. I glanced at the gate. At the figure. As the darkness drifted into me…
My heavy eyes suddenly fluttered open. Steadily I rose, pain coursing through my rigid body. I glanced around, warily scanning the surroundings.
It was a disaster. Night had pulled back revealing the chaos beyond. I turned and trudged along the murk, frantically looking about. The land was surrounded by the frames of uprooted trees. Far out in the distance rang faint echoes of the thunder. Dark, black smoke started to drift from afar. Immense fires loomed out in the distance, engulfing the civilians and scorching the land. The silence was deafening.
I slowly turned, my eyes stinging. Slivers of Golden-Yellow light embraced my house, or at least what was left of it. The house was chopped to pieces. The tornado had broken the mahogany doors, shattered the windows. It had killed my memories. Our camp was now littered with enormous pieces of debris. The gargoyles were crushed, their iron eyes piercing into
In the minuscule part of the world where I resided, it was known as the month of festivities. Every year the people would decorate their houses and light oil lamps or candles at nightfall. To commemorate this event, the otherwise pitch black night would now be filled with fierce dancing lights, loud songs would reverberate under the full moon.
But not this year. This year, the month began with hailstorms. Gusts of wind forced everyone to stay inside and put aside the festivities. Heavy rains swallowed the lands, flooding through the crops. Saturday 12th was one such day. We knew something was coming. As dusk fell, a grey curtain floated above the land, flooding over the full moon. The winds were stronger, faster. It came without warning barreling straight from the east. As night fell the dark grey fog attacked, pouncing upon its prey; it swept up the land and drifted over the water, leaving an eerie uproar in its wake.
A storm pursued it. It cascaded down, spraying jets of water and hail. I ran to the window. Lightning flashed, thunder rang but dad still hadn’t returned. Then I saw it: a wide, violent rotating column of air had extended from the thunderstorm. It sprinted forward, tearing through the dark land. It pulled the trees and hurled humans and vehicles …show more content…
Warm blood was oozing out of my freezing body. The tornado was near, gaining from the east. I glanced at the gate. At the figure. As the darkness drifted into me…
My heavy eyes suddenly fluttered open. Steadily I rose, pain coursing through my rigid body. I glanced around, warily scanning the surroundings.
It was a disaster. Night had pulled back revealing the chaos beyond. I turned and trudged along the murk, frantically looking about. The land was surrounded by the frames of uprooted trees. Far out in the distance rang faint echoes of the thunder. Dark, black smoke started to drift from afar. Immense fires loomed out in the distance, engulfing the civilians and scorching the land. The silence was deafening.
I slowly turned, my eyes stinging. Slivers of Golden-Yellow light embraced my house, or at least what was left of it. The house was chopped to pieces. The tornado had broken the mahogany doors, shattered the windows. It had killed my memories. Our camp was now littered with enormous pieces of debris. The gargoyles were crushed, their iron eyes piercing into