Mar 08
jessie.p's picture


We hear the weather warnings telling us to leave town.
"We can hold our own as long as we're together." Says dad. 
The storm is bigger than expected, but he's still fearless.
We gather in the basement with our emergency supplies, 
That we bought not a week before. 
My mother pulls us all close, and holds on with all her might,
As if this storm were here just to take us.
My dad is telling us not to worry, but with a small tremble in his voice.
He's scared I observe silently. Should I be scared? I think to myself. 
Dad gets up and joins our little huddle.
He whispers to mom, "We're getting through this. As a family." 

Glass plates crash onto the cement floor, as the lightbulb 
Flickers on and off at rapid speed. 
The perfectly stacked firewood begins to roll into the old bookcase,
BOOM! The bookcase is flat on the ground, and the lightbulb is officially out. 
We grab our flashlights and anything that will give off light.
My dad checks that we are all still here, and that none of us are hurt. 
My mom kisses us all on the forehead, and hugs us tighter than before. 
We stand there huddled once more, in absolute silence. 
We wait ten minutes to ensure that the storm is truely over. 
Breaking the silence, my dad exclaims, 
"See? We can always hold our own... as long as we're together."