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May 22, 2011 was a chilly Sunday evening. The weather was not promising and this gave me all the incentives to watch television. We all ate super in a hurry and retired to bed. I tossed in bed for two hours and I could not fall asleep. The weather was deteriorating; after the terrible downpour, threatening lightening flushed in the sky followed by a deafening thunderstorm. The country had never experienced such a terrible storm. Earlier, in the news, there was a report that a Tornado was likely to hit another part of the coast, but most of the people ignored the warning.
There was a deafening noise outside, followed by people’s screaming. I woke up and run towards my parent’s bedroom; I believed that was the safest place. I never knew the worst was forthcoming; tornado sires blew all over the city, and that day was abnormally loud. Everyone in the neighborhood was searching for a safe place to hide in their houses. I was barely in my parent’s bedroom when I heard the kitchen window breaking. The noise was so loud that it would easily be confused with a bomb explosion.
I knew that the tornado had just hit the house, and we would die. My whole body tensed and goose bumps appeared on my legs and arms. Fear overwhelmed all of us. My father assured us that all would be well because the rescue team was on the way, but deep inside, I knew the situation was helpless. I wanted to escape death, but I had no idea how to go about it. Suddenly, a great force broke my parent’s bedroom window glass, and I passed out of fear and pain. I could not make out anything, but I remember seeing a lot of water and everything scattered in the bedroom. I woke up in the hospital bed without one arm only to be told that I narrowly escaped death that night. My family and I were lucky because over one hundred people lost their lives that night.