Author Notes: This story is loosely based on the 1996 film Twister. I'm not very good at writing news-English, so please pardon my unwieldy news reports. Like always, leave a review, please! I would like to know what you think about this story.
A flash of lightning illuminated the night sky outside the window and tore apart Cristina Yang's dream. She opened her eyes and lifted her head from the warm surface of the pillow as the rumbling boom of thunder shook the house. She looked out the window and saw nothing but darkness outside. Streaks of water were running down the glass as the wind blew the rain against the window. As she sat upright, she could hear the wind howling outside, the raindrops drumming the roof, and the sound of the branches of the nearby tree banging against the wall.
Another lightning lit up the sky, the flash of light temporarily illuminating her. Her curly black hair was loose and messy, her face was pale, and her dark-brown eyes were staring cautiously out the window. She wore a gray t-shirt and light-brown PJ-pants, and on her left wrist she had a small silver bracelet – the last gift from her late father. As the lightning flashed, the bracelet gleamed like a silvery flame.
With a yawn, Cristina turned to see the alarm on her nightstand. The green digital numbers were clear in the darkness of the room: 01:03. At least the power's still on, she thought and tossed the blanket aside. She didn't usually wake up during storms, and when she did, it was impossible for her to go back to sleep. The storm had blown away her sleep and there was no way to get it back, so her only option was to ride out the storm. So much for the comfy bed, she thought as she got up and left the room. Hearing noise from downstairs, she descended the stairs and walked to the living room, where her mom Helen was sitting in front of the TV, watching a news report.
"Hey, mom", she greeted her. "When did it start –"
"Shh", her mother hushed and raised her hand, motioning her to silence. Cristina furrowed her brows and walked closer to the TV in order to hear the news reporter.
"…then hit the town of Walston around 0.35am, destroying most of the town, before dissipating. As you can see from the footage, the tornado was almost 200 meters wide, leaving behind a damage path 300 meters wide. No official definition has been made, but the tornado has been rumored to have been an EF3 on the Enhanced Fujita scale, with wind speed up to 250 kilometers per hour."
As the reporter talked, the screen shifted to video footage from Walston. Cristina felt a chill in her spine as she saw the tornado. A dark roaring funnel swept through the town, snapping trees in half, breaking walls and roofs, and tossing cars around like toys. It was nature's fury at its worst.
"Oh my God", Cristina said as the view changed back to the studio.
"In Walston, it is feared that more than 20 people have been killed, making the number of victims 48. However, the death-toll in Walston would've been much higher if it hadn't been for some very brave storm chasers, who were able to get more than 30 people to safety in the Walston trailer park, where the tornado destroyed over 10 trailers. Our on-scene reporter Melissa Ferrey was able to interview these brave storm chasers. Melissa?"
The scene shifted to Walston, where the reporter Melissa Ferrey was standing next to two wind-blown storm chasers, a man and a woman. The man had a gorgeous black hair and a nasty cut in his forehead. The woman next to him had a long dishwater-blonde hair and fox-like face. Around them was the ruined scene that had once been Walston.
"Thank you, Alana", said Melissa. "I'm here with storm chasers Derek and Meredith Shepherd. Now, you and your team have seen a lot of storms during your career. What can you tell us about the Vellona-Walston tornado?"
"The Vellona-Walston tornado was very powerful and a bit larger than typical", Mr. Shepherd replied. "Though we have seen more powerful tornadoes before, there's no question in my mind that this was a terribly forceful tornado."
"Indeed it was. But the result could've been much worse without you. Do you often get to save people from whirlwinds?"
"Not as often as we'd like", replied the woman. "I mean, our duty is to chase and examine these disasters, but we seek to use the knowledge we have to save as many people as we can. Unfortunately, the winds are unpredictable and often we come too late to warn people. Luckily this time we got there in time."
"The weather forecasts aren't looking too bright at the moment, and meteorologists are warning about the possibility of more tornadoes in the area in the next few days. What advice can you give to our viewers, should they find themselves on the storm's path?"
"I'd say that these storms are vicious, unpredictable and deadly", Mr. Shepherd said."If you have a chance to leave the area for a couple of days, do so. If not, I'd advise you to pay attention to the weather forecasts and take their warnings seriously."
"And if you notice a tornado approaching, get to cover immediately", advised Mrs. Shepherd. "Get to the nearest shelter or basement. If you can't go underground, take shelter from the innermost room of the first floor of your house. Do not linger with opening or closing windows: that is a myth. And if you're in a vehicle, drive away at a 90o angle to the storm movement. As a last resort, abandon your vehicle and lie in a ditch."
"Thank you for your advice", Melissa Ferrey said. "Now, last thing, what can you –"
"Derek! Meredith!"
Melissa was cut short as a third storm chaser appeared. He was a red-haired man with a scruffy beard and piercing blue eyes. Mr. and Mrs. Shepherd turned to look at him, concerned. "Owen, what is it?"
"A possible tornado in Toca. The storm's mustering strength there. This could be big."
"Okay, let's go!" Mrs. Shepherd said and darted away with him.
"We need to go now. Excuse us", Mr. Shepherd apologized before running after his wife, leaving the baffled reporter to look after them. "So", she said and turned her head to the camera, "as we can see, the life of a storm chaser is in constant motion. This is Melissa Ferrey, live from Walston. Back to the studio, Alana."
As the screen shifted back to the studio, Helen grabbed the remote and turned off the TV. "You can't sleep?"
"The storm woke me up", Cristina said and sat to the arm of the sofa. "Did you go to bed at all?"
"I was about to when it started raining. I can go to bed when the storm's over. I don't need to sleep."
"Yes you do", Cristina said, giving her mother a concerned look. "Mom, this has to stop. You can't stay up all night every time there is a storm, watching news reports and worrying over nothing."
"It's okay, dear", Helen firmly said. "Better safe than sorry."
"Mom, I'm serious. You need to stop."
"You know very well that I can't stop", Helen retorted. "If I'm not on my guard, we could all be dead in a heartbeat. You know that."
"It's not your duty to be the storm-watch every time there's a little thunder. There are sirens, alarms…"
Helen snorted. "The sirens go off way too late. We had no warning the last time. What makes you think we'd get one this time?"
Cristina sighed but didn't answer. This conversation had taken place many times before, and no matter how much she tried to make her mother let go of the past, Helen wouldn't let go. Cristina didn't even know why she tried anymore. For some reason, she just did. "Dad wouldn't have wanted your life to turn into this", she quietly said, staring at the silver bracelet in her wrist.
"83 people, Cristina." Her mother's voice was barely louder than a whisper. She was staring blankly at the black screen of the TV. Outside the window, a lightning flashed and she flinched a bit. "83 people died because none of them got the warning in time. Dozens of families were torn apart because the sirens went off way too late. Maybe you don't remember what it was like. You were so young. But I remember, and I am not going to let it happen again."
Cristina lowered her head and shut her eyes. She did remember. She remembered it all – the noise, the panic, the screaming, the sound of the roof collapsing. And that was just the reason why she wanted so desperately to put all that behind her. She didn't want to have any connection to that night. Perhaps that was the very reason she had eventually gotten over it: she didn't want to get caught in it. The terror, the fear, she wanted to forget it all. But her mother… she just wasn't strong enough. That night had changed her in ways Cristina couldn't even imagine. She knew that no matter how terrible it had been for her after that night, her mother had had it ten times worse. But still Cristina couldn't help feeling irritated, annoyed by her mother's stubbornness, the way she insisted on clinging to the past. Maybe it was because in the end, she just wanted her mother back.
Ten minutes passed as the two women sat in silence in the living room. During that time the lightning stopped, and the roar of thunder now billowed from somewhere war away. Eventually, Cristina got up and looked out the window. "I think it moved past us. It's only raining now. I'm going back to bed."
Her mother nodded. "I think I'm going to stay up a little while longer. Good night."
"Good night", Cristina said and walked to the stairs. As she looked over her shoulder, she saw Helen sitting in front of the TV, looking out the window. She looked like a statue, as if she had sat there for eternity. Seeing her like that made Cristina extremely sad. As she walked across the upstairs hallway to her room, she stopped to look at an old picture hanging on the wall. Even though it was dark, she could clearly see what it portrayed: her father standing happily beside her beaming mother, who had her hands on the shoulders of an eight-year-old Cristina. The picture had been taken almost 18 years ago, back in the day when they had been a happy family. Back when her mother had been vivid and warm, and her father had been alive. Back when things were the way she now wished them to be.
She wanted that life back. She wanted her mother back. She wanted her father back. But those days were gone, blown away by the storm, and things would never be the same again.
With a leaden heart Cristina walked to her room and crawled back under the covers. With the sound of rain pouring against the roof as her lullaby, she closed her eyes and fell asleep.