What The Heck

It was August, 27, 1900. The hurricane finally formed, destroying everything in its path. The rain and winds were outrageous and this was progressing into something more than just a regular hurricane. There was little-to-no communication, and we had no idea that the city we call home would come to an end.


August 26, 1900: Sailors and citizens were telling all us residents to get to higher ground, but many of us didn’t listen, especially the vacationers. Most of us just figured it was a normal storm that would pass by any minute, but something didn’t feel right. I’ve never experienced a storm this windy and the rain was constantly pouring, so all of us Galvestaniers decided to remain in shelter. Thirty minutes have passed by and Texas Bureau has reported ships getting torn into shreds and waves reaching lengths up to 4 feet. This was obviously not a storm of any kind. Winds are progressing and rain seems non-stop to this point. A couple of houses in the area have even toppled over and, wait a second, is that a funnel?


September,1st,1900: It’s now September, 1st, 1900. The hurricane has reached magnificent speeds, and me and my family are on our way to get to better shelter. Mom says we should make our way downtown as fast as possible, but it didn’t seem like a good idea. Dad stayed back to look for survivors because the whole village is basically obliterated and I told him that there’s no turning back, but he didn’t listen. We were only a few miles away from downtown and a lot of people were dead, some massacred. I recognized a few familiar faces and I rushed towards them. “Turn back!” Mom said, but I didn’t dare listen, I kept on going. There was blood everywhere and some were under piles and layers of wood and brick. “Unbelievable..” I said. I saw a classmate, ten years old just like me. It was Kingley Shacklebolt. He was one of my best mates since 1st grade and I started having flashbacks. I was sad indeed, but I’m a rebel, I never cry. There was even more people, like Cornelius Fudge, Filius Flitwick and Newt Scamander. I stopped looking at the bodies, forced into flashbacks and almost crying, with my mom on our way to downtown.


September 8th, 1900: It’s September, 8th, 1900. There seems to be no escape. Me and Mom are now in “The Strand”, or in other words, downtown. Building are destroyed, bodies are everywhere and ships are no longer in the sea, instead they managed to get on land. The hurricane is getting slower, indeed, but it’s still on a rampage. Mom and I decided to go to to Aunt Aunnie’s house. Her house should be stable enough to protect a group of 3 at the least, due to how secured it is, but I thought wrong. Her house was ravaged just like her neighbor’s house, or every house in a matter of fact. I started losing hope, but there was one house standing. “Mom, look!” I said. I showed her the way to the house still standing and on our way, there were bodies everywhere. The winds started progressing, like it was only a few yards behind us, so I turned around and there it was. The Galveston Hurricane. I couldn’t break free from the winds and they were sucking me and Mom in. In just 3 seconds, mom was sucked into the hurricane, screaming and yelping, but I ditched her because she’s useless. I managed to break free, on my way to the standing house, but the hurricane was following me! Only a few steps away from the standing house, but right before I got to the house the hurricane..


Day 4: It was just a dream, a dream I’d never forget. I was sweating like crazy in my race car bed, realising my cat, Hector Rodriguez, woke me up. “That was weird”, was all I said, such a strange dream indeed.

The End

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