It was October 5, we were having a relaxing breakfast. Dad was sipping his coffee and my little cousin, who had come for a week’s stay, was rudely slurping his milk.

Suddenly, Dad frantically crumpled up the newspaper, got up and announced, “We have to hurry and immediately evacuate the house!”

My cousin put his mug down and burped loudly. We laughed despite being surprised by Dad’s sudden announcement.

“This is not a joke! We have to leave quickly. Pack your things now!” dad said seriously. He handed over the newspaper with a big headline on the front to us, which read:

“Cyclone Hermia Approaching Coast!

Cyclone Hermia, at approx. 7ft. high, is bringing strong winds and tsunami!

“Emergency evacuation is requested by the Government towards the Four Clover Shelter. Light rains are predicted to start from 8:00am in the morning which will later bring havoc upon those without aid; with strong, hazardous storms and rain and fatal environment, as loads of furniture, glass, metal and other imaginable stuff will be flying hither tither in the ether.

A tsunami will arrive with a tornado, which... (Page 7)”

My little brother’s had tears rolling down his cheeks as he clung to mum.

“Come on! There’s no time to lose!” mum said with an edge in her voice, despite appearing to be calm.

In half an hour, we zipped our bags and were ready to leave. By 9:40am, forceful, frigid winds whooshed past us and whistled in our ears as we sped through the highway. Far into the horizon, we noticed grey clouds and lightning striking the coast as huge waves accumulated water to form into a disaster even worse! The rain had started hours ago; the hard pattering of the drops of rainwater indicated that it was now or never to find safety.

“We’re there!” dad informed us with a sigh of relief.

The car tires screeched as it came to a stop. We rapidly sprinted towards the shelter while our boots made squeaking and swishing sounds on the damp soil. The Four Clover Shelter was on top of a lonely hill. I was so alarmed that my mind produced blurred visions until everything blacked out.

Soon I was in a congested room. Muffled dins of the storm echoes through the walls. Boom! Splash! Bam! Suddenly, my knees buckled and I almost fell down.

“Rest darling, you’re too weak due to tension. You have a fever now,” mum lovingly said as she gave me a steaming bowl of soup.

By 12:00pm, lunch was served by the volunteers at the shelter. There was an uneasy hush in the shelter, except the sounds of crunching, chewing, gulping and sniffing. The horrible splashing of water off the shore, and the whooshing and whopping noise of wind was quite a thing to witness! At 7:00pm, the storm calmed down a bit. The heavy, rough gales were altering into slow, chilly breezes and the dark, cloudy, polluted sky metamorphosed into a clearer sky of stars. The horizon was at peace, but momentarily, for it could strike back again.

Our troubles weren’t over! Crash! Boom! Bang! Kaboom! The humongous volcano, Mount Cyvius, had become alive and started to erupt. Though a few miles away, it was spurting lava and swooshing huge clouds of dust and ash that spread into the atmosphere.

Some people started crying, while others were praying. The radio squeaked and emitted distorted audio across lands. The door creaked and groaned due to the air pressure. A lot of people coughed and wheezed as a result of the smoke. There were whispers everywhere; people were praying for their lives.

A few more days passed in the shelter, and then it seemed like things were coming to normal. The birds were back in the firmament, chirping, cawing and tweeting! We returned to our home a week later. But the memory of the thunder, tsunami splashes, whooshing winds, cracking and breaking objects and the gush of molten magma still terrified me.

Published in Dawn, Young World, November 19th, 2022