Day 21—My Earliest Memory
When I saw this blog post in the challenge, I didn't have to think about what I was going to write. Unfortunately, my earliest memory is also one of my scariest.
I couldn't have been more than three when a tornado came through Charleston. I remember standing in front of the screen door. My mom was behind me. My sisters had just gotten off the bus from school, and all of a sudden, Mom flung open the door and yelled at them to run. They came hustling up the driveway. I remember looking up and seeing this huge black cloud (what I thought was a cloud at the time), and I couldn't stop looking at it. It looked like it was going to swallow our house. I started crying, and we were all shuffled into the kitchen to stand in the doorway, which was what we thought we were supposed to do at the time.
The tornado passed over us, but for the longest time, I had an overwhelming fear of tornadoes. Whenever a tornado watch would be issued, my stomach would clench, and if there was a tornado warning, I was a basket case. When I was twelve, a tornado did hit our house, and that only added fuel to my fire. Now, years and years later, I've managed to overcome the fear, but I have never forgotten that first memory.
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