It was very late at night. The eeriness we were feeling was practically tangible. Something was different - Something that was completely foreign to us. And we couldn’t quite put our finger on it.
It was dark. The only thing that made the bedroom visible at all was the dim light shining through the adjacent hallway. It was just me and my mom. We weren’t talking about anything in particular. In fact, I don’t even think we were really having a conversation. We were just in each other’s presence, and on my end, for comfort, due to the aforementioned feelings. I was only 8 at the time and I needed my mother’s natural comfort to help me shake how I felt.
Out of nowhere the lights went out. I could hear the roaring of the winds pounding against the fragile window. Was this really happening?
The wall of my home was suddenly ripped from the entire structure. And I began to realize what was happening. My mom was on the floor screaming. The screams penetrated my ears even above the sounds of the wind and debris flying throughout the room. It was a tornado.
And then I woke up with a start, cold sweat dripping down my face. I was shaking and crying uncontrollably. Eventually, I regained my composure and tried everything I could to go back to sleep. After numerous hours of no success, I finally got up and got ready for school, exhausted from tossing and turning all night. My only thoughts were, “Just make it through today… Everything will be okay.”
Why in the world should I be scared of Tornadoes in Southern California?
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