3 of 16

Write now Article Tools

Gerald ran down the hallway towards his parents bedroom shouting "I think there's a tornado coming!"
It was now 11:08 pm and sleep was the farthest thing from the terrified young boy's mind. The sky was filled with violent streaks of bright flashing lightning. The whole house shook from the concussion of the hostile rumbling thunder.
"This has to be a tornado" he said to himself continuing his marathon worthy sprint. Busting through the mostly closed door he once again shouted to his mom and dad, "Tornado! Tornado!"

"Why are you yelling" asked Sarah?
"I think there's a tornado" Gerald said again knowing that this time his parents heard him.
"There is nothing to worry about" Rick said. "Go back to bed."
Gerald made his way slowly back to his bed and watched as the menacing wind tortured the trees outside his bedroom window. The routine between the trees and the wind sent the tops of the trees towards the ground. Straining, determined not to allow the wind to beat them, the trees would once again reclaim their tops and whip them quickly towards the ever darkening sky.
"Gerald! Get down stairs with your mother right now" said his dad.
"what's wrong dad?"
"You were right. There is a tornado in the area." Rick didn't want to frighten his son by sounding panicked.
"Come on Gerald" Sarah said and the three of them headed to the first set of stairs which lead to the main floor.
As they neared the steps, the sound of breaking glass overtook their silence causing panic to set in. Rick picked up his son, grabbed his wife's hand and dashed down the remaining stairs. Turning the corner towards the kitchen, rick lost his footing and fell to the floor with a loud thud.
"Quick, take Gerald and get to the basement!" the panic had taken affect causing a crack in Rick's previously unwavering voice.
"What about you?" his wife asked in fear.
"I think I twisted my ankle."
"Let me help you get to the basement" she pleaded.
"There's no time."
Sarah took Gerald's hand and led him to the final flight of stairs listening to the sound of the aching house crackling from the force of the ever strengthening wind as they descended to the basement.
Minutes passed but it seemed more like hours before Rick's voice sounded through the darkness of the cellar.
"Where are the two of you hiding?" Rick's voice once again sounded calm.
"We are over here in the rec room."
Rick hobbled along the hallway to his favorite room in the house and sat patiently with his wife and son waiting for the storm to pass.
Outside, it sounded as though a raging battle was being fought between good and evil with only seconds escaping between each thunderous attack.
Now - as quickly as it began, it was over. Silence. It sounded as though nothing had even taken place. Rick was the first to ascend from the underground vault into the world of destruction that stood beyond their home.
"Look at the Sampson's home or what's left of it."
Shock took the place of fear as the trio beheld the devastation left behind by the racing storm.
"Let's go make sure that all our neighbors are alright."
We seem to have the only house left standing," Rick said as they headed out on their mission.

Learn more about this author, Richard Roberts.
Click here to send author comments or questions.

Add your voice

Know something about Short stories: Storms?
We want to hear your view. Write now!