We knew it was coming. We just didn’t know when. Mother told us to hide in the cellar while her and father went back inside to gather our necessities, and a few valuable knick-knacks. The cellar lay adjacent to our house, close to the pasture where our confounded animals stay feeding on the grasses. The inside of the cellar only stretched about ten feet in width, and sixteen in length. My father could barely stand inside, since the height of the cellar was only about six and a half feet tall.
When I was three, my sister introduced me to the cellar. It was a place where Faith and I would spend our afternoons playing with dolls, giving each other makeovers, and holding secret meetings with our friends. The first time we used the cellar for its intended purpose was when I was seven. I had never experienced such fright in my father’s face. My mother had never been so scared, until today. It had been five years since the last twister. But compared to what’s coming today, that was nothing.
From below the ground we could hear the bellowing of the winds. In the distance we could hear the splitting of tree trunks and uprooting of streets and sidewalks. As the noises got deeper and thunderous, Eddie began to cry. Being only four, the cries from the young child began piercing our ears. Grace started to shiver out of fright. They both huddled against my mother for protection against the winds.
As the winds rumbled closer, I remembered what I had forgotten inside the house. I opened the top of the cellar door, and ran out into the whirling winds. My mother yelled at me to come back. The twister was still about a mile away, but the winds approach at an alarming rate. I grabbed the scrapbook from under by bed, and dashed through the front door of our farmhouse. I stood in the front law watching as the twister drew closer. My feet were stuck to the ground, as if the thousand raindrops that had fallen from the sky were infused with adhesives.

I watched the tornado glide closer and closer to me. As the held the book close against my chest, I looked to the twister, then back at our house. I knew I a matter of minutes there would be nothing left but a few pieces of wood, some roofing tiles, and the unbalanced foundation of our home. I watched as the memories from growing up here flooded through my mind. First, I thought of my first day of school, and skipping down our newly laid grass. Then I thought of the time I got my first horse, riding around our property as if I were a champion.
Just as the tornado began to approach our land, my father ran up to me and pulled me down into the cellar. My heart raced as hit the concrete floor. My sisters and brother gathered around me to see what I had raced back inside to save. I showed them the photo album of all our family memories. My mother came and gave me a big kiss on the forehead. Tears began to trickle down her checks when she saw the pictures of us as babies.

A few hours later, the wind had calmed down. My father’s face arose from the cellar. As my family stepped out, we looked at each other, and then to where our house used to stand strong. There were no more animals, no more homes, just dead grass, and broken fences, along with the discouraged and terrified looked apon the neighbors faces. My mother and father, Grace and Faith, Eddie and me all looked at one another, then back at what once was our home, and began to cry.