~Fubunmei

Wow...

Last night here in the midwest was pretty horrible. I, with my inborn terror of tornadoes, was oddly calm when I was home alone and the sirens started. My dad was stuck at Home Depot, and I went to the basement on a notion of fear.

45 minutes later, the supercell was over my house. It was raining buckets out there. I was experiencing an odd emotional burden. I wasn't really aware of my situation as much as I could have been--as much as I should have been.

But while I was watching the news, I heard of something horribly sad. A story about the Little Sioux boy scout camp. About how it had been hit. How four had died. And it got me thinking. About how they were old enough to know their situation--they were teenagers. How they knew that they were in some deep shit right there, without adequate protection. I could imagine the terror of the younger boys, and the silent anxiety of the near-adults. And I could imagine the chaos of the moment, when the tornado hit. I could hear the killer silence after the fact.

I began to feel scared right about then.

Fortunately, the most that hurt us was a bit of flooding--my back is killing me right now. But I'm still kinda scared. Because it's a very good possibility that a few people from my school were at that camp. I have no way of knowing until school starts up again--I'm just out of the loop. So there you go.