Memories Blown Away

Why do put myself through it? Daddy was a mean old mister and he was even worse with a bottle in his hand. Mama was an angel in the ground, and going to the cemetery to visit her was just too hard to bear. Here in the plains of Oklahoma it was usually just me and my thoughts.
Abbey Miller is my name. I don’t have many friends and with Mama gone there’s no one for me to talk too. I’m about as lonely as those coyotes howling in a clear dessert night.
As I glanced out the window, dry lightning cracked across the sky. A storm was a brewing and I couldn’t help but grow cold and stiff. Storms in Oklahoma reminded me of my daddy’s emotions. One minute it could be peaceful and the next he could be ripping and screaming through the house like a tornado. As the sky grew darker around me the sweet smell of rain wafted in through my window. I was just about to turn on my iPod and drift away when I heard those sirens screaming out. I leapt out of my bed and turned on my old bed-side radio. As the weatherman’s voice crackled through all I could comprehend was the one word he kept repeating over and over in his five year old boy voice…… “TORNADO.” Tornadoes are common here in Oklahoma, but every time someone utters that word it sends a shutter up my back. All I could do was run. As I rushed outside the wind was blowing and whipping my hair around like it was part of a raggedy Anne doll. I ripped open the cellar door and crawled inside the 10 by 10 wooden shack. As the smell of mold and mildew took over my body, I realized I forgot one thing back in the house. Daddy.
As I ripped across the front yard to my front door my stomach dropped. Why hadn’t he heard the sirens? Why hadn’t he made sure I was in the cellar? I ran into the foyer and a strange quietness came over. Why was it so quiet and where was daddy? I made my way into the living room. I saw him, passed out on the couch like the lazy bum he was. As I ran over to wake him up, the strong smell of whiskey over took me like the smell of a dead skunk on the side of the road. My anger washed over me like I had just spent a round in a washing machine, but I wanted him to wake up so I started jumping on him with all my might. Nothing. I was thinking about dragging him out when the house started to squeak and groan. My mind was racing and I was dripping with sweat, I wanted to save my dad, but I needed to save myself too. All of a sudden something inside my brain clicked, like a seatbelt. Something that would keep me safe.
I slowly moved my way back from the couch, leaving him there. Why should I save him? He was just a washed up alcoholic. All my life I’ve put up with his crap, and now I’m trying to save his life instead of mine. I walked back down into the storm shelter and waited until morning.
The sun shone through a crack in the door the next morning. As I made my way up the stairs I braced myself for what I would see. My house…..gone. Everything gone, including Daddy. Yet I wasn’t sad, because every one of my tear soaked whiskey memories had blown away.