Running Is Now Impossible

Animals, Writing

 Something in the distance is… flickering, dark cumulonimbus clouds cackle, zipping across the sky.  The moist tears of clouds overhead gently land on the soft skin of my cheek as I turn my head upwards.

I am alone, in the park. The nutty vanilla scoop of ice-cream which I… was licking is now a puddle of milkiness on the grass. I am frightened. The ferocious thunder is forcefully thumping down on the earth. Terrified voices can be heard screaming and shouting. But I am glued to the wet park bench, petrified from everything around me. Obviously, I am in the midst of a growling storm.

The rain is pelting down, thunder raging and howling even more alarmingly than before. My heart has slowly and painfully made its way into my throat, beating at a ridiculous pace. My legs, though practically paralysed, miraculously straighten out, enabling me to sprint across the soaking grass. Vivid daggers glide inaudibly across the deep grey patterns above me, unexpectedly illuminating my way home. Is it possible for me to outrun this ruthless, frenzied atmosphere?

The wind, forcefully attempting to shove me backwards, chases me across the rivers which are forming on the streets. People, this time physically, jolt against me, racing to reach their families. Don’t they understand? I have a family as well!

I gradually reach the familiar ‘quagmired’ marshes of my home! THUD! I land, mouth first in a disgusting, earthy puddle. The chocolate coloured soil, floating around like nothing was amiss, marches into my open mouth. It tastes fatal, but I could not care less at this moment. Now, my only goal is to get home!

My wounds are growing in number by the second as I limp across the mangroves of my deep, marshy backyard. My house is not in view yet, but I know I am close now, even though I cannot see a mere pace in front of me (because of the developed fog). Uuggh! I have slipped again in a sore heap and struggle to get up.

Finally! I can see my house… No! I lash backwards against a tree as I watch my precious giant blue-gum hollow, tumble onto the wooden roof of my home. Mum? Dad? Jessie? Bromley? I slump against another bumpy gum tree, probably fallen in the midst of this horrifying cyclone. What will happen to me?

from Olivia, proudly an animal lover!

P.S I wrote this early last year. Not one of my most prized pieces of writing!

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