Skip to main content

Short Story: The Storm

  • Author:
  • Updated date:

I am a nurse, a partner, a mom to three children (one biological and two stepchildren), two ragdoll cats, a dog, and several saltwater fish.

This short story shares the experience of being woken up by a storm.

This short story shares the experience of being woken up by a storm.

The Storm

I shot up in bed, awakened by the sound that I had thought was my alarm clock. I was surprised to find that the glowing red LED lights read 2:11 am. If it wasn't the alarm clock, what was it? I had thought to myself while wiping the sleep from my eyes. Suddenly, I heard a deafening crack—the type of crack you hear when you pour boiling water on ice. While the noise filled my ears, a blinding light lit up my bedroom. I could make everything out as if someone had just flipped the switch on. I saw my vanity clear as day across the room.

It took a few moments before I came to my senses and realized what was happening. I had scanned the weather only hours ago on my laptop and had not noticed any warnings of a storm approaching. But here I was, looking out my bedroom window face to face with the violent beast.

Suddenly, I heard another deafening crack of thunder. This one was so powerful my whole house trembled under the force of the storm. Like a child, I ran for the security of my bed, which was still warm from the few hours I had previously spent peacefully sleeping in it. I crawled deep within my blankets, covering myself from head to toe, leaving nothing but a small space exposed—just large enough for me to see out of.

What was I thinking? I was a grown adult, frightened by a silly storm, hiding underneath my covers as if they would actually protect me from something. With that thought, the storm produced another earth-shattering crack and a blinding flash of light. The storm seemed to be collecting more and more energy with every minute that passed by. Yes, I may be an adult, but hiding under the covers somehow made me feel less afraid. The feeling a small gopher probably gets when he’s being chased by a coyote and finally reaches his hole, his safe place. Yes, I was a gopher, a gopher burrowed deep within my mound of blankets. Protected from the vicious howl of the thunder and sharp teeth of the lightning.

It felt like hours I lied there, listening to the storm and wishing that it would pass. Just when I thought it had moved on, I was proven wrong, and it gave me another terrifying blast as if it just needed a moment to put all of its power together.

My eyelids became so heavy that the struggle to keep my eyes open became stronger than my fear of the storm. The warmth that my body had generated under the blankets was getting to me. I was falling asleep. Despite my intense fear of closing my eyes and leaving myself vulnerable to the storm, I eventually drifted off.

I was awoken once again with a bright light coming through my blinds. Drowsy, my thoughts stumbled on themselves; I didn't understand what was going on around me. Had I been awake all night? Is it still storming? No… no, I think that is sun beaming its rays through my window. The sun! I had lived! I made it through the storm. It was morning and I was alive. Jumping out from the safety of my covers, I made a mad dash for my bedroom window.

Yes, that really was the sun, the calm after the storm. It was so bright that I had to squint my eyes. Its rays were so warm and inviting. Shielding my eyes with my hand like a scout on top of Lookout Mountain, I scanned my yard. I could tell that the storm I had experienced last night was not a dream. The storm had left evidence, proof of just how powerful it could be, all over my yard. My yard had been littered with tree branches, leaves and—is that my neighbour's trampoline?

I ran down my creaky old wooden stairs to my front door to get a better view of my yard. I walked out onto my soaking wet lawn still in my bare feet. I felt the damp yet warm blades of grass brush along the soles of my feet with every step that I took. I felt the sun's warmth on my skin like a warm kiss on a cold winter's day. I took a deep breath and allowed the air's aroma to enter my nostrils. No matter how hard they try, they just can’t mimic the smell of a fresh rain on a summer's day and put it into an air freshener.

Despite the fear that the storm had embedded in my soul and the disaster it had turned my yard into, it sure did bring on a beautiful day.

Storms often turn into beautiful, sunny days.

Storms often turn into beautiful, sunny days.

Questions & Answers

Question: How do you write a long story?

Answer: You need a storyline that takes place over a long period. I wrote this story about a particular moment in time that spanned a few hours. This made it a lot shorter than, say, a story that covers a couple of years.

Question: What made you write this story?

Answer: I have a love/hate relationship with storms. I am always checking the weather and watching big storms roll in. I find the thunder and lightning fascinating. But on the other side I am also very scared of the possibility of tornadoes!

So I decided to write a detailed story about a storm, to kind of express mine and others feelings when it comes to bad storms.

Question: What is a tornado?

Answer: A tornado is.....

"a mobile, destructive vortex of violently rotating winds having the appearance of a funnel-shaped cloud and advancing beneath a large storm system."

Basically, a tornado is a very powerful act of nature that is sometimes part of a large thunderstorm.

Related Articles