sketchbookantagonist

My first memory of the storm occurred when I was 7. A whirlwind of blinded fury, It picked up kitchen utensils and threw them around in it’s Natural force of anger. And a frying pan connected With the back of my 6 year old sister’s head. We were only trying to do dishes, but The storm formed as little hands Made little mistakes And little brains Made little errors in our thought processes, And it cared not that we were learning- Only that we were failing. I was told, however That this storm began long before this memory- The storm threatened to take me away from my home repeatedly. And the storm raged when I was in the warm c