My little tornado of a life

I woke up, knowing something was wrong, and heard something strange whooshing sound. I raced to the window, and my breath caught, my heart ripping through my chest.

A swirling funnel was barreling toward our little townhouse, broken bits of hardwood and chairs being tossed about in the upturned dirt and gravel. I raced through the house, trampling the socks thrown about the tattered, old floor, screaming while I yanked open my parents’ room. I tear to their bed, violently shaking their sleeping bodies. “WAKE UP” I yell, shattering any ear drums near me. Mom drowsily lifts her weary eyelids, “What, Cy?” “TORNADO!!!” My dad jerks, shooting up and ushering me to the basement while mom gets Jet, our dog. We lock the doors and pile up all the furniture on it, the room pitch black with the absence of electricity or windows. The tornado rips up the ceiling with me along for the ride to, mom and dad shouting my name and Jet crying, “Cy!”, “CY!” I wake up to moms voice “CY!!! Wake UP!” I groggily sit up and mom leaves, not closing the door behind her. 

I grunt, annoyed, and pretend to shut it with my hand 10 ft away, and… it drifts shut. I pinch myself and blink a few times, decide it was the wind from my window, and get on with my morning. 

The usual boring day at school commences, and I drift through, having an exercise keeping my eyes open. In Spanish, Ana and Chelsea greet me with a “Hola, loser!, “What an L” My anger boils, and a gust of wind knocks their assignment and homework out the near window. I smile to myself, thinking of this weird day finally paying off.

“Hey Cy, tryouts today!” My best friend, Christi claps me on the back, miming a slam dunk.

I suddenly remember and a beaming smile spreads across my face, and I begin counting down the hours, 1 and a half to go, 1 to go, half to go… . The school bell rings, and I run with a spring in my step, to the locker room to get changed.

After 5 minutes, I jog out into the gym, where the coach, Ana, a few girls, and Christi have gathered.

I take my place, and after a few minutes, we start with a scrimmage. I’m with Christi, and a few other girls, Ana and her team standing on the other side.

The whistle blows and we spring into action. Christi gets the ball, then passes it to a girl on our team, but she gives it up when Ana steals it, getting set to pass to a girl behind me. The ball goes high, and on instinct, I jump. 

I clear the 3ft and grab the ball with my fingertips. I bear down on the court, bouncing the ball with my step while girls get out of my way, I reach the net, jump up to the 8 feet, and slam it in so hard the rim shakes. Most of the scrimmage goes that way and at the final whistle everyone, exhausted, shuffles off the court. 

A few days later, the results are in!

I scan the JV, looking for my name when Christi comes up, and points at the top of of the sheet.

I made Varsity!

I jump up in the air, bumping the ceiling, hug her, and see her name next to mine.

“We did it!”