Gale

• Jasmine Khurana
• Short Story
• 2013

The bolt of lightning followed by the roar of thunder awoke me from a peaceful slumber. As soon as my eyes slowly started to adjust to the obscurity within my room, I thought it must be early morning as the sun had not yet risen. With the next angry thunderclap overhead, I pulled off my pink Barbie cover and raced to the other side of the room to grab my favourite and most precious possession, Strauss. The sound of the tiny sand grains moving around inside his soft puppy body comforted me.

Just then, I heard murmuring coming from downstairs, in the living room of our Rochester Minnesota home. I reached for my purple Hello Kitty dressing gown that clung awkwardly to my chair. It still had a faint, soothing lavender fragrance from its recent visit to the washing machine. Still half asleep, I came to a halt at the top of the stairs where I saw my parents at the window talking to each other, gazing up at the sky. Something was wrong.

I could now make out the sustained shriek of sirens tearing through the air. Collecting my courage, I descended the stairs. When my parents heard me approaching they turned around. I caught a glimpse of their anxiety before they hid it, although they couldn’t hide their exhaustion. It seemed that sleep hadn’t come to them during that clamorous thunderstorm.

My mum was wearing her soft pink pyjamas under a floral silk dressing gown. I could still see faint water drops on my dad’s shirt over which his damp black hair dripped. In the reflection of the window, an image of a five-year old’s puzzled face stared back at me.

I looked beyond my tangled dark brown hair, to the rain beating down like heavy tears from heaven. As I pressed my warm face against the icy glass, I sensed a sudden coolness within the atmosphere; almost like stepping into a refrigerator.

A shiver was sent up my spine as I stared harder into the distance. Thin black silhouettes of nearby trees stood motionless among long blurry shadows. The stench of danger drifted into my nostrils. As I looked up towards the sky I became frozen with fear.

Black swirling clouds as powerful as bulls soared low across the spooky green-grey sky. I could feel the constant thud of my heart pounding now, my throat had dried up. With every valuable second ticking by, I felt as if my life was as vulnerable as a candle’s flame ready to be snuffed out.

Suddenly, our TV blared to life, interrupting my thoughts completely. A loud robotic voice with a strong American accent, declared something about a tornado warning over South Eastern Minnesota.

The world seemed to spin before me. Nothing seemed real. One minute I was asleep in the cosiness of my bed and the next, dad was setting up our small powder room downstairs, as a tornado shelter. Outside, I imagined the strong whoosh of the wind as loud as a train, making all of the leaves on the trees swirl fast in the air. The next two hours passed by with soft whispers of reassurance. All I could hear were my own waves of thoughts echoing loudly through my mind. I kept telling myself not to be like the cowardly lion. With my family beside me and soft Strauss in hand, bravely I bided the storm until the sirens fell silent and we emerged to see the first rays of sunshine pierce through the clouds.