The Wind
The Wind stories
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The wind was blowing hard that day. I stood outside underneath the veranda of our farm house, just watching the leaves bustle in the torrent of the breeze.
By friendlyneighbours https://www.reddit.com/r/...

The Wind

by friendlyneighbours

The wind was blowing hard that day.

I stood outside underneath the veranda of our farm house, just watching the leaves bustle in the torrent of the breeze.

I could hear them rustling like rattle snakes, up on the trees and I looked up quietly to them. The green and brown fluttered back and forth in this dry weather.

But the wind had given a cool blowing breeze in my long red hair. I blinked my eyes slowly, getting prepared.

I took a few more steps away from the house, coming closer to the demanding gusts, and watched as houses got torn up.

I could see their wood flying into pieces, making a circular drilling cage for the swirling torrent that I had never been so close to before.

I could hear the cattle and the sheep bleating and mooing, as they began to gallop away from the wind. My green eyes just watched the poor creatures get swept up. I could hear my father’s cry.

“Catherine! Get in here now!!”

I turned around, and could see him with my mother and brother, in the bunker and I just smiled.

I dared him to come out and get me... but he wasn’t that brave. No, my eyes were just mystified on the spiraling wind that came closer and closer...

tearing up the ground and trees as it made it’s journey to its destination.

Me.

I swallowed and stepped a little closer to it, my mother crying out to me, in tears.

“Catherine! Please!”

I could hear their shouts, but it wasn’t going to stop me. I was going to face that storm... face that breeze.

As the tornado began to approach all I could hear was infant crying.

I ignored it and stepped closer to my doom... our doom.

I had never liked my parents... taking me away from my boyfriend, making me give up the baby...

They should pay the price.

I walked a little forward in a bit of a harder struggle.

The infant cries soon became infant screams, screeching in my ears and I would cover them if I could, but my hands were busy carrying something.

Carrying... someone.

My baby sister was screaming in my arms, only just turning one and I could hear my mother’s screams and yells of horror soaked in tears as I stepped closer and closer to the spiraling tornado,

taking my little sister with me.

She had red hair like me... and had reminded me of what my own child would’ve been like.

Except he would’ve been half cast.

And my father had held a gun to my boyfriend’s head, yelling.

“Never come back.”

Now I was never coming back... and I was taking their precious little baby with me. Away from them.

Into the storm.

I took two last steps, before I was near the very gusts and wood and decapitated cows and sheep.

In a second the two of us were yanked into the tornado.

Gone.

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