Chapter One-Hundred-and-Eighteen: On A Dark and Stormy Night...

Last week, my post was revolved around my resolutions for 2017. So far, so good. Especially with writing...because, look, a new blog post!!

Well, I was inspired last night to write another chapter in my blog. After it all happened, I literally said to my mother, "Well, this will make a good blog post." 

It all started when I was cleaning my room. It was after dinner time, and I had just finished sorting the last of my things. I was in a spring-clean mood and had a drive to rid my room of a lot of clutter. A couple of boxes and two trash bags of clutter, that is. Anyway, I had just moved all of this out of my room to begin packing and sorting for my impending drive back to Lubbock, when my radio suddenly stopped playing T-Swift and made a horrible, gut-wrenching noise. 

*WHAAAA WHAAAA* 

My heart stopped. I stopped, and turned towards my radio. 

Oh Okay

After the National Weather Service told me that they were just testing their alarm system, I finally let out my breath. If you haven't been around me when it was storming (or if you didn't read Chapter Eight), then know this: I have a huge fear of bad storms. I can handle rain. I can handle light thunder. Heck, I can even handle lightning okay. But when there are strong wind gusts and hail and horizontal rain? Nope. I'm freaking out. 

This is all in fear of the monster that lurks in the clouds. Tornadoes. 

I'm unlucky for the fact that I have lived in Tornado Alley literally all of my life, but I'm very lucky that I have never actually seen a tornado nor experienced one. Regardless, I have a huge, huge fear when it comes to these things. So, anytime there are severe thunderstorms, you'll find me sweating and on edge. 

Anyway, because my radio was just scaring me with NWS tests, I went back to packing and playing on my phone. 

A couple of minutes go by and my radio gives me another heart attack by blaring that awful noise again. 

*WHAAAAAA WHAAAAAA*

AAAAAAHHHHHH

I burst out of my room and run to the study, across the house, where Mom and Dad are sitting at their computers. 

"My radio just went off," I yell, "There's a tornado warning in....a county..." My thought escapes me, and I no longer remember what obscure county the NWS had said in their alarm. 

"Which county?" Mom asks, her attention on her computer screen. 

"Uhhh I don't know. Nearby?" I guess.

Both Mom and Dad seem pretty unmoved and unbothered by the whole ordeal, so I decide that I should be unmoved and unbothered as well. I slink back to my room, watching the lightning flash outside our back door window as the thunder rumbles in the distance. I'm sure we're fine. 

I climb into my bed and start playing on my phone again. There was a small threat that our electricity may go out with the bad weather, so I was charging my low-battery phone. I listened to my radio while browsing my Facebook feed, Twitter feed... the social media works. After getting my fill, I return to folding and squishing my clothes into my suitcase. 

My radio continues to play The Weeknd when I notice that my phone is buzzing. Is someone calling me? I wonder, reaching for it. I pick it up and am suddenly greeted by death via National Weather Service. 

"A Tornado has been detected in your area. SEEK SHELTER NOW" 

I burst out of my room, this time flying across the house. My parents turn in their swivel chairs, greeting me with expectant eyes when I reach the study. 

"My phone," I gasp, "Tornado in our area!!!"

"Where?" Dad asks, skeptical.

"IN OUR AREA!!" I repeat.

"Hmmm..." He turns to check his reliable weather website. Mom is disturbed, but since Dad isn't convinced, isn't too concerned. I watch the two of them for awhile and then turn on my heels. I fly back to my room to collect my necessities: phone, check. Charger, check. Blanket to protect from flying glass and debris, check. 

"So this is where we hide?" Mom confirms with Dad, looking into my bathroom. I run past them into the bathroom, blanket wrapped around me, breathing hard. 

If my emotions were consistently rated on a scale from 0-10, I was probably at an 8 at this point. My heart was racing, I was sweating in places I didn't know could sweat, and my mind wouldn't stop picturing the absolute worst situations. 

You see, my rational side kept telling my emotional side that everything would be O-K. (Luke also tried to tell my emotional side this). However, in the flurry of the moment, it's very hard for my emotional side to just say, "Oh, okay. My bad, I'll just stop freaking out now." 

In the mean time of Dad checking his weather website and Mom grabbing the now-nervous dog, I collected my precious, precious guinea pigs into a box and collapsed in the bathtub. I was alone in the bathroom except for my blanket, guinea pigs, and phone. I was extremely nervous, but, again, my rational side detected no threat. 

**I accidentally pressed the mute button but this is me explaining that I am indeed in a tub, with a blanket and my pigs**

Well, I don't know if you've ever sat in a bathtub alone, but it makes you think. I started thinking about my impending drive to Lubbock and semester and how that could all change in a moment just like this. I thought about our house falling apart. I thought about my boyfriend who was in a house right in the line of fire. I could feel my breathing change from normal to hyperventilation. 

"Hey Sarah," Mom calls from the hallway, snapping me back to reality, "How are you doing in there?"

"Not good," I croak out. I can feel my tears and that's when I know I'm gone. 

Mom comes in and sees my tear-streaked face. "Oh, hun," she says, coming in. She sits next to me while I cry. 

"It's ok, honey, you're in the right place," she reassures me. 

"I know, but it's scary," I half-say, half-cry. I think mothers inherit a special gene where they can understand crying children because I could barely understand what I was trying to say myself. 

I check Twitter again for an update on local news, and once again, I am tested. 

"ARLINGTON" I scream suddenly. Mom looks at my phone.

"That's far from us, honey."

"NO THAT'S RIGHT NEXT TO US!!" The guinea pigs are now squeaking and freaking in response to my raise in emotional level. On a scale from 0-10, I am now at an 11. 

Next tweet:

I read the tweet and instantly open Google Maps because I have little sense of direction. I find my location, scroll South a couple of clicks and see the intersection. The intersection of fear and crushed dreams. The intersection of Highway 360 and 287. 

I shout an explicit term in my poor mother's ear and show her the tweet. My guinea pigs are trying to escape my chaotic grasp while Jack, our large dog, also is nervously trying to comfort my pigs and me. Just then, Dad comes in to join the party. 

"DAD TORNADO AT 360 AND-"

"I know. I think it's going to travel just west of us."

Dad then looks at me and sees just how broken I am. My legs are shaking from being cramped in a tub and from fear, and my face is red and wet from my constant tears. 

"I'm sorry," I mumble, embarrassed. 

"It's okay," he says, "I'm just telling you because I don't think you have to worry so much." 

I nod, but I keep crying. 

In the mean time, I am obsessively reading tweet after tweet of official and unofficial sources talk about the tornado ripping its way through my city. It's one of those awful moments where you know you should look away for your sanity but you just can't. Mom, at this point, had grabbed a book and was trying to relax and entertain herself while being in my presence. She stayed by my side through my whole meltdown, because she's my mom and knows me like the back of her hand. 

At 9:00 pm, the angel choirs sang and the heavens shone holy light down on my phone when the notification popped up.

"The Tornado Warning in your area has expired"   

Dad came in and alerted both Mom and I of the glorious news. My emotions were still high, but now containable. My tears were drying, and while I was worried about others affected by the storm, I was so thankful that the tornado didn't even touch our house. 

I returned the guinea pigs to their cage and moved into the living room to join the family in a less-dramatic atmosphere. 

My legs still shaky, Mom suggested that we watch a Disney movie to try and calm my nerves. 

So, at 9:30, Mom and I watched Tangled. Of course I cried during the movie, too, but those were the good tears. My eyes deserved to cry some happy tears that day. 

And while I do admit I am dramatic, over-the-top, and quite emotional, I will also admit that my family is supportive and know just what to say and do to help balance out their crazy daughter. 

I hope you're safe from the Texas weather and for those returning to school like me.... good luck!! As always, thanks for reading.