This week we continued our short stories. On day 5, the prompt was extreme weather. I chose to write about Hurricane Florence.
The house shakes as winds reach 130 mph. I’ve live in North Carolina for fifteen years, since I was born, and I don’t remember any hurricane being so severe.
I hold my younger brother, Ollie, tight as he clings to our dog, Maizey. Rain pounds our home while the winds howls. When the hurricane first started, I found a small, black portable radio in case we needed it. Now, I turn it on. The man’s voice cracks in and out but I understand what he says. “Hurricane Florence is now a Category 4 hurricane…”
Ollie, Maizey and I cannot leave our home. My parents went three hours away to pick up my older brother, Jason, from the airport. They’re stuck there, and I’m stuck here, looking after a seven year old scared out of his mind.
A BANG! goes off some distance away. Maybe another tree uprooted and crashed into someones home. This September, I’ve had to watch constantly for weather signs and new reports. I don’t know why, but this season has been pure destruction.
“I’m scared, Ally,” he whimpers.
“It’ll be okay, don’t worry,” I reply, giving him a reassuring squeeze.
I try to be brave. I try not to let my voice falter, but I’m worried. For us, my family at the airport, my friends, the community. All I can do is sit here in this house and wait until it’s not so dangerous.