Taken by The Storm

Hundreds of lights lined the edge of the storm. I am in one of the nomadic clans. The storm lies only about two hundred feet from our tent, howling loudly. It would drive a normal person mad but for us, it has grown to be a fact of daily life. We have fast-moving carts, in case the storm spreads in the night. Every day we must get up early to work. Every night the steady sound of the storm hums us to sleep. Sometimes I sit on top of our family cart at night. I watch the red-tinted clouds, as the dark, silent shadows of the deamons loom and walk along the curtain of clouds at the edge of the storm. I see a dark shadowy figure looking at me, it was a child of the storm. I feel the storm touching the edge of my mind, whispering loudly, then I go to sleep. I dream most nights about strange deamons with long inky black, clawed fingers, lifting me from my bed. They bring me into the storm and into a circle of obelisks, shrouded with red mist. They set me down onto a stone slab in the middle, then I wake up. Today I woke up to my uncle telling me "Giddup ya lazy boy! We have plentya work ta get done!"


I pulled on my trousers and shirt and went to the door. When I opened it, I was surprised by the lack of usual sunlight. The ground was covered in fog and the air was cold. I hated these days. I walked over to where my uncle was working on a garden, and he handed me a tool and said "Pull up the turnips and put 'em over in that basket." he pulled up a carrot, brushed it off, and took a big bite out of it. I clomped over in my big work boots and saw my seven-year-old cousin, running around with a stick. I sighed, pulled up a large turnip, and put it in the basket. A while later it was time for lunch. I went to the ration stand and got salted meat, a bruised apple, and fried carrots. The man at the stand's name is Gjud, and he has almost no teeth at all. He looks very strong and wears a stained apron. I sat down on a wooden bench. A woman sat across from me with an eye patch. She smelled like sulfur. A shaggy white dog ran by and I saw my cousin. I walked to him and asked, "Why aren't you eating anything?" My cousin brushed his thick, brown hair out of his eyes and said "I'm not hungry," My cousin was short for his age and very creative. He was always getting into some sort of trouble. I walked back to the garden to finish my work of pulling vegetables. When I finished all of the gardens it was late, and I went inside to go to sleep. That's what every day is like for me.


Today I woke up in complete silence. It was late, and my uncle hadn't woken me up yet. My cousin was also still asleep. I got dressed and walked outside. The first thing I noticed was that the storm was only about one hundred feet away. I did my morning chores and looked around for my uncle. I found him talking to a tall, old man wearing a top hat with a feather in it. They were examining a chart with the storm and lots of measurements and equations. My uncle saw me, and said "Good morn'n kid!" I looked at the storm and said "The storm moved during the night," My uncle looked at me, concerned, and told me "Yes, it moved during the night and if it moves again we may have to leave." I worked and relaxed for the rest of the day, and had a dream at night about the storm reaching the camp. In the morning the storm was only about fifty feet from the tents. My uncle woke me up very early and said that I should start packing, and we would leave early the next morning. I realized that everyone was packing to leave and I did too. Gjud kicked the side of his stand and wheels sprung out of the bottom. I worked for about an hour on scavenging wood from the sides of the gardens and picking a few last vegetables. I put some wood in the cart and ate some lunch. For the rest of the day, I didn't do much. Soon it was time to sleep.

I woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of thunder. The wind blew against the tent. I noticed that my cousin wasn't in bed, so I went outside. The howling wind blew against me, and I saw the storm, only about twenty feet away. Blue lightning split the red clouds and deamons roamed on the other side. I walked forward and saw my cousin just standing there, looking at the storm. He watched the deamons, and the deamons watched him. It was hard to see my cousin because the wind was blowing sand all around. The rain was falling so hard that it hurt, and I fought the wind, walking forward. I yelled, "What are you doing so close to the storm?" Sand flew into my mouth and I choked but still kept walking forward. The sand was beating against my face, and it was painful. My cousin reached into the storm, and a tall deamon with long horns came into view. It grasped him with its long black fingers and pulled him in. The storm started to spread quickly, and I ran back to the tent. My uncle met me at the cart and asked "Where's your cousin?" I closed my eyes and said, "He was taken by the storm." Tears filled my uncle's eyes and the storm hit. Tents and carts flew through the air and deamons walked by. We rode away until we knew we were safe.

Sometimes I see that same deamon that took my cousin, just watching me. Now, most of the time we stay away from the storm. I can tell that the deamon is just waiting for me to make the same mistake as my cousin did.