Storm

• Matilda Wade, Grade 6, Gisborne Primary School -
• Short Story
• 2018

Excellence Award in the 'Write Along 2018' competition

Storm
When I woke up I stretched and did a huge yawn. I quickly realised that heavy rain was pounding hard on the rusty tin roof, and I was puzzled how I didn’t wake up in the middle of the night because of it. I pulled back the covers and walked out into the kitchen. I held my arms firmly for a while because the air was brisk outside of my bedroom. I grabbed the plastic stool from the cupboard and put it under the mugs shelf. When I grabbed my favourite mug I put the kettle on, poured myself a steaming hot chocolate and went to sit by the window in the living room.

I admired the rain trickling on the window as I took small sips of my hot chocolate every now and then. I watched as the wind made the leave-less tree wave to me and I waved back. A rainbow peeked out behind the dark grey clouds, it stood out because of its vibrant colours compared to the dull shades around it. Lime green leaves flew everywhere as fast as a cheetah running to catch prey. The soft grass was soaked and if you were to step on it you would instantly slip over. As my hot chocolate cooled down I gradually took bigger mouthfuls until it was gone.

Hail began to stomp on the roof at great velocity. It was at this point that I noticed my dark purple push bike sinking into the ground, dappled in mud. I sighed, knowing that I had to force it out of the mud because of how expensive it was. I slipped my fluorescent yellow raincoat and dirty blood red gum boots on. I opened the heavy white door and I got slapped by hundreds of golf ball sized hail. I leapt back inside and used all of my force to slam the door shut. My heart was pounding in my chest, as hard as an elephant stepping on me. I had to act fast before my bike was a goner. I made a quick dash for the reckless tree that was swinging around madly. I squatted to yank the bike out by the handles. It was no use. My feet were sinking at the same speed that the bike was. It was either me or the bike.

I managed to get my feet out of the mud, but before I could get to the door I felt a gnarly tree branch secure around my waste and throw me across the yard into a dark 6 foot hole. My arm was bent completely the wrong way and I screamed louder than I’ve ever screamed before. There I was, laying at the bottom of a pot hole with a shattered arm. There was no use fighting as the mud slowly consumed me. It got higher and higher until it covered my mouth and nose...