The Storm

• Ash Leonard, Grade 12, Smithfield State High School
• Short Story
• 2011

Excellence Award in the 'Step Write Up 2011' competition

The storm had set in. Cold and shivering, Jane retreated from the window. Tightening her cardigan around her shoulders, she sunk into the filthy armchair next to the fireplace. She surveyed the room and found it looked much more eerie in the flickering light. She couldn’t remember how long it had been since she had arrived at Earl Manor. Perhaps it had only been weeks, but it felt like years. It felt even longer since she had seen another person. Only the rodents that scampered through the old building kept her company.
Gazing at the fireplace, her mind began to wander back to the night she had fled to the Manor. She remembered how bright the moon had been as she had sat on the back porch with her mother, sipping slowly at her tea. They were both happily talking when loud footsteps could be heard from inside the house. Conversation ceased as Jane’s stepfather entered the kitchen, presumably to get himself another beer. The sound of the refrigerator door opening and closing could be heard from the porch. The footsteps then retreated and Jane’s mother shook her head.
Suddenly, there was a very loud crash that came from inside, followed by cursing. Both women hesitated for a minute, knowing exactly what it was.
“What are they doing there?” bellowed the voice from inside.
Jane followed her mother as she quickly rushed through the door.
“Peter, are you alright?” Jane’s mother asked, helping him up.
“How many times have I told you to put everything away?” he yelled, spittle flying from his mouth.
He pointed at the pile of books next to the couch which he had tripped over. Jane’s mother tried explaining that she didn’t leave them there and that he had been reading them, but he wasn’t listening. It then happened very quickly. Jane’s mother let out a squeal as Peter’s anger took over. Jane, who had been hidden by the dim light in the corner of the room, quickly ran back outside. She heard Peter shout out after her as she ran down the road as fast as possible.
After a few minutes, the road came to a fork, but Jane had no idea where she was going. She decided to follow the road on the right side, which led to a large forest. The bright light of the moon illuminated a large, old building, which almost looked like an abandoned castle. Jane pushed open the old, creaking gate on which she could scarcely read the words ‘Earl Manor,’ carved into a wooden plaque that had been placed in the centre of the huge wooden front door.
Now she sat, staring at the fireplace, tears of anger welling up in her eyes. She hated him so much. But she knew she could never go back, she no longer had any reason to. Knowing this made her even angrier. A shiver of hatred ran down her spine, exploding through her bones. Yes, the storm had definitely set in, but this storm would never leave.