Stories on Fire (unedited)

Prompt 1

Write a story about a character who is trying to survive a natural disaster.

Prompt 2 Use this sentence in your story:

“You lost your eyes on what?”

The year was two thousand sixteen.

The date was August Twelfth.

The place was Louisiana.

All my life, I lived through devastating storms. Thunderstorms, tornados, and hurricanes. I would watch on the news as people struggled to find safe havens after losing their possessions, losing their homes, or losing their loved ones.

We managed to live just outside the worst of it all. We would lose power for a while, playing board games and card games by candlelight, and we would have to clean up fallen limbs when it became safe to do so, and there would usually be a tree that had to be cut down which would become firewood for us over the winter months.

The floods never reached us, we always had food, our home received little to no damage, and once the power came back on, life returned to normal.

I even recall playing in the wind and rain, the gusts of the hurricane would whip my hair around, and I never cared about the goings on around me.

Not until I was much older and saw the devastation for myself.

I never thought I would live through it.

I moved to a small apartment complex with my husband and our three children. My step-kids were visiting us for the summer holidays, but school would be starting for them soon, and my husband left that weekend to take them home.

He left that Friday, the same day it started to rain.

That is where our adventure began.

I awoke and found my husband gone, as he usually left in the early hours of the morning. After all, it would be a fourteen-hour drive to Florida, and another fourteen to drive back the next day, and he liked to get as early a start as possible.

I began my day like any other. I made breakfast for the kids, and then sat down to watch some TV with them. Today, it was another gripping installment of My Little Pony.

I gave up halfway through the episode and left my kids to it, while I went online and down the rabbit hole of social media. Once there, I saw reports of flooding in areas around me, but at the time I did not think much of it, as the flood had never reached us before.

I checked on the status of Comite River and saw the water levels were rising steadily.

"Strange.”, I thought. After all this was just simple rain. It was not a thunderstorm or hurricane, and the rain was not coming down that hard.

What had failed to occur to me; it was not raining hard, but the rain was constant, and was not showing any signs of stopping any time soon.

I continued to watch throughout the day as the water level rose so high, the Comite River flooded. This could only mean one thing: disaster.

My phone ran then, and I answered it to hear the concerned voice of my husband.

“Babe, I need you to get in the van and head to your mom’s house now.”

“Is it really that bad out there?” I asked.

“I just got a weather alert on my phone.” He said, “I checked the map and some areas around you are already flooded. You need to get to your mom’s before you’re cut off.”

“Alright.” I said, not looking forward to driving in the rain, “I’ll start getting the kids ready.”

“Let me know when you’re on your way.”

“I will.”

“Okay, I love you.”

“Love you too.” I said, hanging up and tossing my phone on the couch.

“Come on, kids.” I announced, “We’re going to Maw Maw’s.”

My two youngest did not even question it. They jumped up and shouted their exclamations of excitement, while my oldest looked at me, confused.

“We’re going to Maw Maw’s?” She asked, “But it’s raining?”

“I know.” I said, heading to their rooms to get clothes for them to change into, wondering what else I could pack along the way. “But we can’t go swimming in the rain.” She continued, following me, “What would we even do there?”

“I don’t know.” I said, not wanting to deal with her persistent questioning, “Visit, I guess. Maybe your Maw Maw is cooking some Gumbo, or Jambalaya.”

“But we just had breakfast.”

I sighed in frustration, “Just go get ready.”

As they put their clothes on, I grabbed one of their book bags and began shoving in extra clothes as well as toothbrushes and other essentials I thought we might need. I had no idea how long we would be at my mom’s, but I did not want to forget something important and be stuck there, unable to return home.

I checked the news again.

The water was still rising steadily.

Any thought of packing things around the apartment were pushed from my mind. Time was not on our side, and as son as we were all dressed, I loaded the kids and our cats into the van and set off.

As I drove down our street, I noticed the ditches were already flooded. We had not lived at those apartments long, maybe two years at most, but I had never seen them flood before. I managed to get to the main road, and that is when traffic slowed to a complete stop.

One thing was certain about drivers in Louisiana. Whenever there was a little rain, there would always be some asshole who did not know how to drive in it. Wrecks were common enough already in my area, but they tended to double in stormy weather because people refused to slow down and drive with a little more cautious.

As I sat there waiting for the wreck to clear, I noticed the cars ahead of me began pulling off and turning around. I began to wonder if I should do the same when my phone rang again. I had forgotten to call my husband back.

“Yes, dear?” I said as I answered the phone.

“Did you leave yet?” He asked.

“Yeah, yeah we’re stuck on Florida Boulevard right now.” I told him, “Sorry I didn’t call you back. I forgot.”

“Okay, as soon as you can, find a spot where you can turn around and go back to the apartment.”

“Are you kidding me?” I asked, “Is it that bad already?”

“The roads to your mom’s are all flooded.” He said, “Go back to the apartment and stay there. We’ll just have to wait it out.”

“Okay.”

Not long after, I got a call from my mom, checking up on us to see how we were doing. I told her and she agreed with my husband on returning to the apartment and waiting it out. Traffic finally moved enough to where I found a spot big enough to where I could turn the van around, then I began making the journey back to the apartment.

I had not gone far, and soon we were back home.

As we walked back inside, my phone rang again.

This time, it was my sister.

Now, my mom called me every now and then to make sure we were okay, my dad would call maybe once or twice a month, but my sister never called me. Never. We did not have the best relationship, so when I saw her name pop up, I immediately knew something was wrong.

“What is it?” I said, answering the phone.

“You at your apartment?” She asked.

“Yeah, just got back.” I told her, “I tried to make it to Mama’s, but Derrick told me to go back.” “No, don’t go anywhere.” She said, “The whole front of my neighborhood is flooded already. It’s bad.”

After that, the group text message began. It included me, my parents, my sister, my cousins, and all our relatives who lived in the affected areas. So far, my parents’ house was spared, as was our cousins who lived near them, but the same could not be said for others.

I looked out the window and saw our driveway was now covered with water. I began to grab the important things and move them to higher ground, just as the water began to come underneath the doors. I grabbed towels and whatever else I could find to slow the flow of water, but in the end, they did little help as the water continued to steadily rise.

I took pictures and sent them to the group chat, just as the power in the entire complex went out. My sister had sent pictures too, and her house looked like my apartment with water covering the entire floor. Before long, every room in the apartment had three inches of water.

My cats took shelter on the top of my kitchen cabinets. Normally, I would not allow them to be up there, but as the water continued to rise, I did not see another option for them. I grabbed their carriers from the garage but hoped I would not need them.

The day wore on, and the rain did not relent its insistent downpour. By mid-afternoon, I had each cat in a carrier, and each of my kids had a backpack full of bottled water, some food, and fresh clothes sealed in Ziplock bags.

The water had risen so high, it was now up to my waist. My daughter held on to my back, while I carried my other daughter and my son to the van. It was now flooded as well, but it also had a ladder on the back. I waited for my kids to climb up before going back into the apartment for the cats, carrying them up one at a time before joining my kids atop the van.

In the bag I packed for myself, there was some food and water, some fresh clothes, my phone, and its charger even though I had no idea where I would find a place to use it. Each of us wore a raincoat to protect us from the downpour, and I had remembered to grab the small tarp out of the garage. I used it now, covering us and our cats while we waited.

My cousins had texted the group they were on their way to my sisters', along with their fishing boat. I kept them updated, as often as I could, but with the power going out earlier that day, my phone was close to dying. Already, it only had 20 percent left, and with each notification and call, that number became less.

“Mommy?” My daughter asked, “What if it keeps coming?”

“Then we’ll get on top of the roof.” I told her.

“What happens when it gets higher than the roof?”

I did not want to think of that, because I honestly did not know what would happen then. I could swim, my oldest daughter could swim, but my younger daughter and my son could not. We would have to leave the cats behind, as horrible as that would be, but even then, we would not make it far without help.

And even though my daughter could swim, but she was not a strong swimmer, and she still wore a life vest when she ventured into the deep end of Paw Paw’s pool. We left their life jackets there, as we always did, as there was no pool at our complex for the kids to use, but now, stuck atop my old van, I wished I had brought them home.

Another notification.

I checked my phone and saw my cousins had made it to my sister’s house and she was now safe in their boat. I was their next stop, but even though my sister did not live far from me, a fifteen-minute drive at most, it would take them a while to reach me as their boat did not have a motor.

Minute by minute, we waited atop the van, my cats howling while my kids shivered and whined. They were bored, they were scared, they were wet, and they were miserable. So was I.

My oldest continued her barrage of questions I had no answer to until the unexpected happened. A current made its way through the streets of the complex, and my van, heavy though it was, began to move. My kids thought it amusing at first when our neighbor’s car floated by, but that amusement was short-lived as we now had no choice but to climb up to the roof before the van was pushed too far away.

I helped my kids climb up first, then I tossed the cats up as gently as I was able. Climbing up myself was a challenge on its on as I was overweight, and not in the best of shape. I could feel my arms shaking with the effort as I tried to pull myself up, but I was only able to get so far while my legs hung over the side.

My van was carried even further away, and I lost my footing. Fortunately, all the apartments were connected, including the town houses. A neighbor saw me struggling and climbed down from his roof to help, then he and his wife helped us climb to the top of their townhouse.

It was the best we could hope for in our situation. All around us, I saw our neighbors climbing to their roofs. Each one calling out to the other to make sure everyone was alright. The rest of our neighbors had gotten out in time, while we all agreed we did not think this storm was going to get that bad, and by the time we realized we needed to leave, it was too late.

How stupid I felt, and I know my neighbors felt the same. We had all been through the worst of the worst, and never had it ever gotten this bad.

I checked my phone, but it was dead, and the only one with a portable charger was on a different section of the complex, and he did not feel safe tossing it across. Along with calling his loved ones, he also called the police, the Red Cross, the Salvation Army, FEMA and any other organization he could think of.

Everyone else with phones passed them around to neighbors close by so we could call who we needed to as well as get updates on how much longer the storm was going to last.

“Three days, it looks like.” Our neighbor Kevin told us, checking the weather radar.

There was nothing to do now but wait.

I had a boat coming, but what about everyone else? How would we get them all out? The flood stretched for miles around us, with no sign of slowing down or stopping. Where was the nearest place where they could drop us off and come back for the others?

By the time my cousins arrived, the water had risen to the edge of the roof of my apartment. We climbed down, along with our neighbor Kevin and his wife and carefully climbed into the boat. The cats howled the entire way while my son sat on my sister’s lap, and my younger daughter sat on mine.

My oldest sat with Kevin’s wife, Pamela, while rummaging through her back.

“What are you looking for?” I asked as the boat left the complex.

“I lost my eyes.” She replied, still digging.

“Lost your eyes on what?” I asked.

“My Mr. Potato Head.” She dug some more before finally sighing, “I think I forgot them.”

“Well, Mr. Potato Head is just going to have to go without eyes for a while.” My cousin said as he continued rowing.

It was hours before we made it back to their truck, which was mercifully not flooded. Neither was the convenience store they parked at. We were able to go in, dry off, use the bathroom, and change clothes. There was also a laundromat next door, and thankfully they still had power.

The guy who owned it let everyone use the machines for free, including the soaps and whatever else we needed. The manager of the convenience store wanted to do the same but was waiting to hear back from the owner. Finally, she did, and the owner did allow us to get some snacks and a drink, but that was the limit of his generosity. Eventually, more boats began to show up, and the owner told the manager to lock up and go home.

I asked if my cousins would go back for the others, and they told us no. They were exhausted from the effort of coming to get my sister and I and did not think they had the strength for another trip.

Guilt began to set in with me. I thought about all my neighbors trapped on their roofs, the water continually rising, with no other rescue in sight.

“Let me take the boat out.” I said.

My oldest cousin, Joshua, scoffed, “It took everything we had just to get you out. Those currents are stronger than they look. You’ll get swept away before you even get a mile, and we’ll have to come rescue you again.”

“He’s right.” My sister said, “I mean, I feel bad for those people but there’s nothing we can do.”

I looked to Pamela and Kevin, but they shook their heads. Kevin was a strong man once, but after a nasty fall, he had broken both of his arms. Even though he had recovered, they were still weak. Helping us climb up on his roof had been a huge risk.

I went into the laundromat to charge my phone. My kids sat nearby, sharing their snacks with other kids who arrived after the convenience store closed, while other kids sat with my cats, petting them through the slits of their carriers, trying to keep them calm.

We slept on the floor of the laundromat that night, while my cousins used my tarp to cover the bed of their truck, allowing people to sleep there while they slept inside the truck, and my sister slept in the backseat.

It was a miserable night on a cold, hard floor. My kids used me as a pillow, and we used their freshly dried clothes as makeshift blankets.

The rain continued into the next day, but fortunately, we were still safe where we were. The windows to the convenience store had been busted open, and most of the food and water was already gone.

Even though I’m not proud to admit it, I joined the crowd and stocked up on what I could for me and my kids. I even grabbed some cans of cat food as I forgot to grab the cat food when we left the apartment.

My cousins went back out on their boat, going from neighborhood to neighborhood and bringing back whoever they could find. On one trip, they brought back nothing but dogs who had been left in their kennel while their owners evacuated. They were wet, shaking, and confused, but thankfully they were rescued in time.

Later that day, we learned that a group know as the Cajun Navy had come in to help. The Cajun Navy had started in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina and grew from there. Now there were hundreds of boats, with people from all over.

Lafayette, Abbeville, Lake Charles, Opelousas, and more. Doctors, Lawyers, College Students, Nurses, and more … all getting in their boats and going out in search of people in need.

I checked my phone again, but the news media was not covering us. It was if nothing was happening in our state at all. I only began to hear from family and friends from out of state because they saw pictures posted on Facebook and got concerned.

I looked at the pictures as well. Stadiums were filled with cots as every nearby shelter that was not flooded were already overcrowded, parents were separated from children, coffins were rising out of the ground and floating down the street, homes were destroyed, businesses were lost, and there were already dozens of casualties. Even the water that only reached up to peoples’ knees was not safe to walk around in as videos of Alligators floating through some of the streets began making their way around social media.

“Holy shit.” My sister said, watching one of them, “That’s just down the street from my house.”

My husband called me to let me know the boys had been dropped off safely, and he was on his way home, but he was trapped outside the flooding area and would have to look for a different route.

In the end, the route brought him safely to my parents’ house, but he could go no further.

It would be two more days before the water receded enough for him to come get me. In the meantime, I waited at the convenience store with my cousins and sister. We had found some games to keep the kids occupied with, but food and water began to run out quickly, so my cousins got in their trucks and drove around.

They came back with nothing no matter the direction they went.

Everything was either closed, looted, or already underwater.

Eventually they did find one store open, but the shop owner had raised the prices of every item in his store, so all they were able to purchase was a container of water, some bread, and a bag of chips.

My cousin held on to the receipt, even took a picture of it along with the items he bought and posted them on his social media. The outrage over the price gouging was swift, and it was not long before other people began calling out other stores for doing the same.

Justice would come eventually, we hoped, but until then, all we had was a container of water, a small loaf of bread, and a bag of chips to survive on for the next few days.

The Salvation Army and The Red Cross began passing out food to homes they could get to, and people shared those pictures in side-by-side comparisons. The food from the Salvation Army looked amazing, while The Red Cross was feeding people two nuggets, a spoonful of slimy green beans, and a slice of bread.

Seeing this did not raise our spirit, but only sent us further into a state of depression and despair.

I went without eating so my kids would have more to eat. Even the pet food had run out because there was not much there to begin with and now, we had my cats as well as the dogs my cousins rescued.

Towards the third day, a boat came by, but on it was an elderly man with a grill, and several large ice chests beside him. When the storm hit, he knew power was going to go out, and folks were going to be without food. He saw the numerous posts about price gouging and the scraps The Red Cross was feeding people. So, he took it upon himself to fire up his grill and go around with his food and cook for people.

He had grabbed all his canned goods, canned sodas, bottled water, and tossed them on his boat. He then filled all his ice chests with everything from his freezer. It was an interesting meal, to say the least, but it did exactly what we needed it to do. It raised our spirits.

We later learned places like the Red Cross were turning people away who cooked food to give out, and even discouraging others who wanted to do the same from cooking and handing out food.

It was a terrible and beautiful time. Prejudice disappeared, and we all came together as one people. Everyone, everywhere, working together at a time when the rest of the nation remained oblivious to the goings on in our little section of the country.

However, the nation did not remain oblivious for long. A few days after the rain stopped and the flooding began to recede, we received a visit from one of the candidates in the presidential election that year.

The media meant to slam him, making it seem like all he brought to the victims of flooding were boxes of Play-Doh, not even realizing what their broadcasts would mean for us. Within a matter of days, trucks poured in from every state, each one carrying supplies for rebuilding homes, food, clothes, toys, and whatever else we needed.

I saw license plates as far away as New Jersey, California, and even Washington, all coming in to help us when we needed it most. Even now, when I think of it, I feel overwhelmed with emotion and gratitude.

Even the National Guard showed up, bringing with them MREs, blankets, tarp, and ice. They too went out in search of survivors, blocking off dangerous roads and guiding people safely to their destination.

When we finally were able to return to the apartment, I broke down. Everything was gone. Every picture, every collectable, every toy, every article of clothing, every piece of jewelry, every heirloom passed down through the family … nothing remained that could be salvaged. All was either broken, damaged, had floated away.

Months went by, and every house we drove by still had piles of trash by the road in front of the gutted homes. Some of them would rebuild, while others had to move on. Some businesses were able to come back, while others were gone for good. The stores that had raised their prices during the storm received fines, and some were even shut down completely. Organizations like the Red Cross know better than to ask us for donations, as we refuse to give them so much as even a penny after the stunt they pulled.

Members of various churches gathered up volunteers from all over the United States, and traveled to Louisiana with the sole purpose of tearing down what was too damaged to be rebuilt, and then assisting with the rebuilding.

Politicians continued to point fingers and place blame, the news media continued to misconstrue what actually happened, while some people from out of state mocked those who chose to rebuild their homes instead of moving elsewhere.

It was a freak storm. A thousand-year storm some called it, saying we would not see the likes of it again in our lifetime.

For me, I will never forget how helpless I was on top of that van. I try to block out questions like, "What if my neighbor hadn't been there to help me on that roof?"

“What if my cousins had gotten there too late?”

“What if the guy with the grill had never shown up?”

“What if the people from other states refused to volunteer?”

One night, in the spare room of my parents’ house, I turned to my husband, “Never again. I don’t ever want to go through something like that ever again.”

Since then, we made a point to teach our kids how to swim, and we keep life jackets regardless of where we are living, and a small boat just big enough to carry us, our pets, and some supplies so we never get stuck wondering when or if someone will save us.

We also have a generator now in case we lose power, and when we go shopping for groceries, we always buy an extra can of soup, or an extra bag of toilet paper, or an extra container of toothpaste. Little odds and ends that get stored away and rotated out so they do not expire, so that we will always have food.

This came in handy in two thousand twenty during the pandemic and everyone was stuck in quarantine. Even then, we were still able to help a neighbor or two when they needed something, but all the stores were closed.

That was something else I changed about myself. I vowed never to ignore those affected by the storms after that just because it did not happen to me. In the years that followed, there were other storms, other floods, other hurricanes that threatened to shut us down, only this time I was not playing card games by candlelight, or dancing like an idiot in the wind, but instead, I was loading up food and supplies, ready to assist anyone who needed help.