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Rated: · Short Story · Action/Adventure · #1288455
a story about a storm or storm like abilities.......
As i stood in my backyard, watching the lavander sky turn into dark gray clouds, a flicker of light flashed across the sky, and a rool of thunder sent chills down my spine. I turned and raced toward the front door of my house, as the roaring wind whipped through my dark black hair, tossing and swaying everywhere. I ran inside and attempted to slam the door but the rage of the wind stood sturdy and the door would not budge. Denise scurried over to help me close the door. Using all of our strenghth we sucessfully shut and locked the door. Panting we tiptoed away and glanced at each other; this was going to me a long night.
All of a sudden we heard a shattering sound. We ran toward the living room and gasped. Our mailbox had crashed through the window sending glass flying everywhere! Denise dashed into the kitchen; within seconds she was back and we pinned a large black trash bag over the window.
A sond from the baby moniter makes our stomachs turn. Phillip, aour two month old baby brother is crying. We runtoward the the stairs, but instead we stop, the loud screech of the phone rings, once, twice, three times. I answer the phone, "Hello?"
It was mom. "Get..........watch.......Phillip......ba....." We lost the call. We run faster then we have ever fun before, up to Phillips room. I grab him out of his crib and we race toward the front door of our house.
With a twist of the knob, the door violently swings open and breaks off the hinges. We take off running to the outside basement doors. Denise climbs i n first and i hand her the baby; atleast they're safe. I fall in missing the ladder and hurting my ankle. As if on que both Denise and I jump and pull the dors to. We are as safe as we can possibly be right now.
We all three cower in a far corner toward the back of the basement. Although the noise of outside is intensified in here Phillip falls asleep on my arm, and Denise whimpers.
We can hear the racket of objects of great sizes smashing into our house and the doors of the basement.
Suddenly the basement doors began to rattle, and they fly open. There in the doorway stood our parents, and everything is quiet.
"Why are ya'll crying? Why are ya'll in the basement? Whats going on?"
"The strom. It blew in the windows of the house, and it was really scary!"
"What are you talking about? There was no storm."
I walk out of the basement and look around outside. The sky was a beautiful Robins blue, the birds were singing, and there was no evidence of a storm. We close the basement doors, and go inside. It's luch time and i'm starving.

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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1288455-The-Storm