Wispers

• Brooke Mcpherson, Grade 8
• Short Story
• 2021

The wind whispered in my ear and in an instant I knew what to do. I rushed to pack my black, leather backpack, slipped on my bright blue, muddy jacket and sprinted for the decrepit, dull, yellow door. I got outside and it was bitter to the point where goosebumps dashed down my spine. The leaves started falling off the trees and the green grass wasn't so green anymore. I could hear the waves roaring and the birds screeching and all my thoughts were scampering through my head, then time stopped. I look east and the luminous sun started soaring up and the heat started developing making me feel viable.

The day was going to be prodigious and the feeling fluttered through my blood. In a sudden turn of events colossal, dark grey clouds lingered above me and they rumbled and rumbled until I got a taste of what was coming. The rain started pouring down, the sounds of thunder roared above me and the lightning blinded me. I dashed for cover and looked for people but the streets were quiet and the houses were empty.

Everything was left on the ground and I was all by myself in such a tremendous world. I was panicking and my heart was beating out of my chest. My jaw dropped, my face abruptly became white and sweat was dripping from my palms. I cried for my parents and friends and I was petrified of what was going to happen to me. I ran as far as I could, to the only place that could make me feel at home in such an atramentous time.