I will remember the smell of pine for the rest of my life.
It was 4 AM on a Monday morning, and the tornado siren had just gone off for the second time that night. I barely paid attention to the thing, as it was always more of an annoyance than a warning to me. This was not going to be any different, so I waited for the wailing to stop and then rolled back over, grumbling to myself. "Finally, I can go back to sleep."
Zelda, my German Shepherd mix, made this half grunt-half growl sound as I rolled over, pushing her to the side. Big dogs always take up a lot of room in a bed. Shasta, my collie mix, was in her usual spot on the floor next to the bed. None of us had any idea what was coming.
It was only a few seconds after I had closed my eyes to drift back to sleep that I got the feeling that something was wrong. I heard nothing at all, no sound. Not even the rain that had been falling on my roof and against my window for the past two hours. That seemed odd to me.
It was then that I remembered what I had read about other people's experiences with tornadoes. Almost all of them had mentioned that there was an eerie stillness before the twister hit. The calm before the storm. Finally realizing what was happening, I jumped out of bed, grabbed my pillow and a blanket, and headed toward the bedroom door to the bathroom.
There is no basement in my house, so the bathroom is the most interior room. Even in my half-asleep state, I still remember what I had read about tornado safety. If there is no basement, the next safest place is a windowless interior room. I tore out of the bedroom and threw the blanket into the bath tub. I dove into the tub and covered my head with the pillow, to protect myself, though I don't know how much protection a small pillow would have been against falling debris.
Then the storm hit. The wind began to pick up in noise and intensity, much more so than it had been blowing the previous few hours, or indeed ever before that I could remember. I could hear small objects hitting the roof and walls of my house, with an occasional thud from a bigger object. I just prayed that those walls would hold.
There was a tremendous crash from the front yard as something large landed on the lawn. The wind howled its anger as more objects struck my roof and walls. "I seek refuge in Allah. Don't let me die, don't let me die, don't let me die." I prayed as I curled up in the tub, covering my head with my flimsy pillow and pulling the blanket over myself.
There was a metallic crash from the backyard as the old treehouse came crumbling down. I always knew that it would fall eventually. I would always hear it shaking in the breeze so I knew that a strong wind was going to bring it down.
There was another loud crash, and this one confirmed my worst fears as I heard the splintering of wood and the breaking of glass. Something very large had just come through my roof or wall, and knocked out a window. It sounded like it had come from the kitchen, but I wasn't about to check, not while the storm was still raging. I had been lucky so far and I wasn't about to push it.
The next few minutes were a blur. I remember the roaring of the wind and the thumping of objects against my house. I remember laying in my bathtub praying that God would spare my life. Then there was nothing. The wind was gone. The thumping was gone. The only sound I could hear now was the rain as it poured into my living room.
I was alive. Shaken... scared... but alive. I had made it through the storm, and would live to see the sun rise once again. I slowly climbed out of the tub and shakily made my way down the hall toward my living room. I could see the angry red sky through the giant hole in my ceiling, and could hear the water pouring into my living room.
I could see the giant tree as it lay where the couch used to be, its gnarled branches filling my living room, and making navigation impossible. I could not reach the kitchen to determine the extent of the damage there. I would have to wait until the sun came up to try to make sense of what had just happened.
But at that moment, none of that mattered. I cared not for the damage that the storm had done to my house. I cared not for the cost that clearing and repairing everything would be. I only cared that I was still alive. I was alive and unhurt, and my dogs as well, the only family that had been with me through the storm. The angry red sky did not bother me. I only felt at peace with the world as a sense of relief flooded over me, and I got on my knees and thanked God that I was still alive and unhurt.
But I will still remember the smell of pine for the rest of my life.
