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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2228456-The-Flood
Rated: E · Short Story · Action/Adventure · #2228456
A flood story.
It had been a normal Sunday morning, with the cup of coffee, pancakes, and a blanket of clouds covering the area, because it was England after all. I watched as the sky became pale white, then gray, then ash black. By 11:00, it was sure that it was going to rain before the day was out.

I turned on the stove. Outside, a sudden flash of violent rain hit the windows. Fog and rain covered the outside. I thought to myself: Ha, I'm going to live through this just fine.

I was very, very wrong.

After lunch, the rain still blew strong. I opened the door to see how it was, but was immediately met with water all the way to the brim of my house. A few neighbors also looked out from the pouring rain, only seen by the familiar colors of their shirts through the rain. This was going to be a long Sunday.

I closed the door and took out the remote, looking at the news. The weather man appeared: "Lows of fifteen today, and highs of twenty three. Seathwaite will have a large flood, people say. People have been trying to find the cause of this rain, and some plumbers say that there might have been a blockage. The flood is expected to reach 5 feet by the day's end, but residents speculate heavier rainfall."

That explained everything. These days, there were more and more rains. It was autumn, so there had to be some leaf blockage. I guessed at the problem as I looked outside.

A few hours passed, and I couldn't see anything outside. I decided to look outside again. The moment I looked out, sound of gushing water filled the room. I closed the door in a jiffy, and took out a few sponges and towels to clean the water out. I was trapped.

The rest of the day continued uneventfully. The weatherman blabbed on and on about the flood, down to every last detail. I looked at my phone. The day continued as if nothing had happened. I brushed my teeth and went to bed.

The following morning, a large cracking noise awakened me. I looked out the window. It was still raining, and a thick layer of water stood above my front door. I rushed downstairs in my nightclothes. The door was starting to crack. The walls were showing the faintest signs of cracking, and blotches of water were plastered around the living room.

I ran upstairs and changed into a bathing suit, making sure that I was prepared for the flood outside. I snatched a first aid kit I had hid in my closet, my wallet, a bottle of water, and a pouch with some food in it. Finally, I put it in a waterproof bag, and zipped it closed. This was going to be my survival kit.

I opened the front door and swam to the top of the water. Amidst the chaos, I could see nothing. Not knowing what to do, I swam. I swam and swam, hoping to find a mountain or hills to be on, all while the water level got higher every passing minute. My legs ached as I swam. The barely-visible sky turned from bluish to dark blue, and it felt like days had passed. Each stroke was agony. Waves soon pulled me around. Water seemed to rush in from all sides. Day turned to twilight. I pushed on.

Water rushed around. The last streaks of optimism disappeared.

When the water constantly rushed in, and all hope seemed lost, suddenly, the faint glow of a light appeared. Not any light, a human light. The sound of a blade spinning became louder by the second. Soon, through the rain, a faint orange figure appeared from the sky.

As if by magic, a ladder dispensed to the water. I seized the last of my energy and struggled to the ladder, climbing in between a dozen other people.

Inside, blankets and pillows were set aside for people to use. Towels were everywhere, and clothes of all kind hung on the walls for people to use. It seemed like years since I last seen any sign of civilization. Among me were people wrapped in blankets with daughters and mothers, sons and dads. I collapsed onto the floor, covering myself with blankets. I closed my eyes. I dozed off.

I woke up, looking around. White walls surrounded me as two voices argued.

"Where will he live?"

"He'll be fine. Someone will lend him a hand."

"NO! We can't just leave him homeless!"

"Well, are we just going to pay for his own apartment?"

"Exactly! That's exactly what we'll do!"

"No. I'm not going to."

"You don't control me. I control you."

The light dimmed. This was going to be a long evening.
© Copyright 2020 J. Y. Sun (youthwrite at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2228456-The-Flood