The Twisted Twister | Teen Ink

The Twisted Twister

January 12, 2008
By Anonymous

I desperately turned the key in the ignition, praying it would some how start, but all I got was a strange choking sound almost like when someone tries to strangle a cat and thick, black
smoke pouring from the hood. Slamming my fist hard against the worn out, leather dashboard I heard a loud swooshing sound like when you hold a fan up to your ear. My heart was over
whelmed with fear as I looked up to see the eye boggling cyclone only a few feet away. Without even thinking I snapped on my seat belt, rolled up the window, and closed my eyes tightly.

The roaring of the cyclone grew louder and louder as it collided with the car. I felt as lite as a feather as it sucked me up car and all. I opened my eyes to see a huge mass of tree limbs, glass, garbage, and cows all flying together in a circular motion.

The bone chilling wind cut through my broken window and whipped at my hair like it was in some violent rage. All of a sudden a big stray tire came out of nowhere and smashed right
through my windshield shattering it into a million tiny pieces. To my dismay the glass had pierced through my sleeves and my skin, shooting excruciating pain up and down my arms. The blood gushed out staining my favorite baby blue blouse.

The intoxicating scent of gasoline wavered in the air. Suddenly the hood burst into flames sending out rays of extreme heat. I watched in horror as a blackness overtook the cars
shiny, red exterior snaking its way closer and closer towards me. Smoke flooded the car forcing every bit of oxygen out, causing me to go into what seemed like a never ending coughing spell. My survival instincts kicked in and I violently kicked open the door not bothering to use the
handle (very bad idea).

The tornado’s power was so great that it split my buckle in two and pulled my up in its monstrous grasp. I spun in mid air at what seemed like one hundred miles a second. Huddling up in a fetal position and doing my best to cover my head, I prayed that God would send some sort
of miracle. It took all the strengthen I had left to keep from vomiting. Everything went black as something big and hard smashed into my fragile frame.

When I woke up I found myself lying in some old house that had been completely demolished in the storm. As I walked outside I could see miles of random items just sitting there
on the soft, safe, green meadow. Ironically my car stood right by the entrance as if it had been waiting patiently for me to wake up. It must have truly been “ Ford tough,” because it started on the first try. So I drove back home to see if there was anyone there as gullible as the readers of
this story must be; and there was.
The End


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