The Freezing Twister in Old England

Valerie P., 12, HKUGA College


     Lynn Benicia was a 14-year-old who lived in England in 1677. She often went to hunt with her father during Sundays and, occasionally, Wednesdays. She was the best swimmer and fisher in her village and a skilled archer as well. When there was trouble, Lynn was a person the whole village could rely on. When her father passed away, he left her a laurel wreath he made in the woods, causing Lynn to burst into tears. One day in winter, Lynn was hunting with her usual kit when an unusual sound came creeping towards her. She recognized the sound. It was the same sound that destroyed her village 10 years ago. It was a tornado, larger than she had ever seen.
     Lynn ran for her life, scooping up random little animals on the way, shouting for the villagers to go down to the cellar. The sound was terrifying, haunting Lynn about what happened 10 years ago. Trees whistled sharply in the air as if the god of wind was orchestrating a death march upon the village, striking terror and recalling the frightful memory that is believed to be buried underground. Lynn took the animals to her mother, and then scooted the weeping children into a cellar nearby as the tornado confronted her.
     The tornado broke trees, sucked houses in and, of course, created gales of wind towards Lynn making her lose balance. The tornado was at least a meter wide, and as high as the visible sky. The tornado was gunmetal grey with a hint of snow within. Wisps of water vapor swirled around it as if a river was sucked in (Lynn wondered if the river near the village was really sucked in).
     She shuddered, as she realized that a few animals in the forest were escaping from the tornado’s wrath. She then took a deep breath, and charged towards the tornado after blinking back a silvery tear.
     The animals were pushed towards the village in her friend’s arms while he was staring at her, unable to do anything at all. She touched three fingers to her lips then stretched them towards these survivors as She was hurled in thin air.
     She closed my eyes as she felt the cold air swirling around her. Those sharp blows of wind felt like shrieks of laughter… No, they didn’t sound like laughter, they sounded like prayers. And the loudest one of all was her father’s voice. She heard him pray about her mother, about Laura, about the village elder, Woodring, about the healer, about the fishermen, about the farmers… about her.
Lynn closed her eyes. Her father saved her precious life.