October 26, 2011
By Chris Lobo BRONZE, Clarkston, Michigan
Chris Lobo BRONZE, Clarkston, Michigan
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

It crept up on us while we were asleep.
The swishing and swerving of trees,
Bush’s and limbs as big as a small U haul truck.
Flying across the yard in flight to my house.
Dark green outside like an olive.

A roar as loud as one million mad lions.
I could hear the twister coming,
Its roar getting closer and closer and closer….
We scurried down the maple wood stairs,
As sirens go off left and right.
As if an air raid is going on.
Flight of debris,
And cars are rotating counter clockwise
Overhead like a halo on earth.
I hear screaming and crying
Of my brother and sister to the sound of the twister
Tearing through our house like the ravaged Tasmanian devil.
The panic in my parent’s voices, panting and wheezing.
They cover us protecting the kids from debris
The smell of nothing but
fear invading my nose.
My body full of adrenaline
From head to toe
The Crackle and BOOM!
I heard car horns and sirens constantly go off
Of the maple wood tree snapping and hitting my Vinyl door
The ear piercing screech noise of
Wet wood going down a dry window

Nobody seemed to be calm
Eyes big and heavy breathing
Shingles hit the house sounding like hail at a rate of 1,000,000 MPH!
Soon it was over my back door in caved by an oak tree
My kitchen window, GONE!
As I look up I see this light shine through the wood from the heavens above
I had hoped I wasn’t dead
By the end we had had much work to do
All I had was family…..

The author's comments:
I experienced this when I was 8 so i'm alittle sketchy on detail but I did my best. Thats all I can ask

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