Personal Narrative: Deer Hunting

The back door flew open freely with a bang, the screen door had already blown away, then the front door flew open, then the windows began crashing one by one. We were under attack though I couldn’t quite understand why. We were good people who did good things, yet Mother Nature seemed to think we deserved this. In retrospect, I suppose we should have seen this coming.
On the evening of Sunday June 2nd we sat around the living room. My mother knitting, my father reading the paper, I and my brothers playing cards, and my sisters braiding each other’s hair. The TV was tuned to the news channel so as to bring some noise into the room.
“The air outside is getting cooler, tomorrow will be a good day for deer hunting,” said my father.
“Why is that?” piped my oldest sister.
“It’s because when a cold front comes through to deer start to move around again,” explained father. Suddenly the TV weatherman began to shout, “The system previously believed to be uninfluential has taken a turn for the worse. We can expect to see heavy rain and high winds with this one. This may be a good opportunity to review your family’s storm safety

plan and get your weather radios charged up.”
¨Ah, whatever. The weather people never know what they’re talking about anyways. It’ll probably just blow over,” said Father. My siblings and I assumed that, like always, our father was right and this storm would pass over us and not harm us.
The following day we all, reluctantly, went to school. The skies were clear and the air was crisp. We assumed our father was right. As the day proceeded, it dragged infinitely on, each class seeming only longer than the other. Around 5th period I noticed some benign cirrus clouds forming high in the sky. Thinking nothing of them, I continued my Spanish quiz. When the busses began to pull up, some larger, darker clouds formed and lingered even until we arrived at home. After dinner we cleared our plates, and returned to the living room for homework and cards and knitting and the news. I hadn’t had a lot of homework that night, so I payed close attention to the news. When the weather forecast came up, I payed close attention.
“After a relatively cool day with near perfect temperatures, we are asking everyone to still be on the lookout for the supercell thunderstorm that is heading our way,” explained the weatherman, “We implore all families to review your storm safety plans and get batteries in those flashlights, folks. This storm could cause widespread power outages.”
Father, who had also been paying close attention piped up, “Still a bunch of baloney, if you ask me. Come, let us go to bed.”
When I awoke, the sirens were shouting loudly, the wind was sprinting, winning by a close margin to the already powerful rain.

The ceiling had begun to leak and there were large puddles of water in many divers places. All the family was shouting: from the oldest to me, the youngest. The whole experience was quite deafening, to be honest. We came together and huddled in the hall bathroom, the centermost point of the house, praying and hoping and listening. The listening had to be the hardest thing I’ve had to do in a while. Everywhere could be heard sounds of destruction and rampage. The elements were sent to us to punish us in some way, which way I did not know. When the doors began flying open and off of their hinges and the windows began crashing in, I knew we were done for. In all the commotion, could one truth be understood: this was the

end.
All in all, our town lost 2 people with several injured after that storm had had it’s way with it. Our house was utterly destroyed. We as a family would need to be strong in this moment. Even stronger than brick and mortar walls and even stronger than an EF4 tornado. We saw this coming, but we were not prepared. I often have to wonder to myself, “What if we had been?”