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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item.php/item_id/1648424-Through-the-Storm
Rated: E · Other · Fantasy · #1648424
A popular tale with a twist - Edited on the 23rd of feb Thanks to Carol a Lacroix
 Through the Storm  (E)
A popular tale with a twist - Edited on the 23rd of feb Thanks to Carol a Lacroix
#1648424 by intheventofire


"It's a twister!" the distant figure shouted.



"A what?" I said, but Uncles M's answer never came. I was making for the stable, we all were, but I'd made my last minute dash, a minute too late. The stable doors were bolted.



I slammed my fists hard on the lime green wooden gates and they sagged an inch or two, but for all my efforts they remained closed.



Franticly, I checked my basket. Otto's sleepy face gazed back at me from his yellow straw cot and I was relieved to see that, he at least was unconcerned about the sudden swelling storm.



I ran through my options, it only took me a couple of seconds, my list was worryingly short. All around me buildings were collapsing. Trees and bushes, that a minute earlier had looked so at home in the ground, flew past me in flocks.



I needed shelter and somewhere I'd feel safe. I'm not sure where the decision to run for home came from, but before I knew it I was standing by my bedroom window. Without a second thought, I reversed my usual escape route. Stealing into my cell rather than from it.



I leapt for my bed, clutching my basket with little white knuckles. I pulled my pearl pink blankets up as high as they would go, closed my eyes and waited for the winds to pass.



You'll think I'm crazy, I think I'm crazy, but I swear the house took off in the storm.



As the house spun like a weather vane, I saw the damnedest things from my window. My nerves would only allow me the briefest of peeks, but in between my clenching I saw Mr Derby milking his finest heifer, an old man I did not know sitting in an red rusty iron tub and of course I saw her.



She'd been plaguing Otto and I for weeks. He's a good cat really, but there was just something about the old green witch that stank of catnip. I closed my eyes tight the first time she flew past my window, cackling in the gale.



"I'll get your little cat and I'll get you!" she said as she floated by. My only response was to close my eyes even tighter. Eventually the sleep I'd hoped for came and the wicked woman faded from my thoughts.



When I awoke, she was gone, it was all gone, even the colour.It took me an age to find the courage to get out of bed. My blankets, which before had been so perfectly powdery pink were now the colour of the sky on a rainy day. I took a look out of the window, the whole world looked as though someone had washed it with Uncles M's great black woolen cloak still in the laundry basket. Then I saw her.



We must have landed on her wagon because only two of its wheels remained. I knew it was her when I saw her legs, she was still wearing those slippers only they weren't ruby any more. We'd killed her, Otto and I, I know it wasn't his fault really he's just a cat, but somehow I just couldn't take the blame on my own.



"Otto, " I said. " I don't think we're in Oz anymore."



Word Count 563



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