“It pains me to say this, but not everyone made it…”
The forecast only called for about an inch of rain. Well, I can tell you they were dead wrong. It started off as a light drizzle. That was over a week ago. Non-stop rain for over seven days; what I wouldn’t do to be dry right now.
Two days later…
Due to the unrelenting storm we’ve lost power. I fear that by the time it does end there may not be anything left.
As of now most of the homes in our community are completely flooded out. We had to take shelter in our community rec center; thank goodness it’s on top of the highest hill in town. The weather’s been so bad we haven’t even been able to get outside support. The National Guard’s tried once already to help evacuate people, but all the helicopters they brought in got taken down by either the strong wind or the heavy rainfall.
Even being on the higher ground looks like it’s only going to buy us so much time. The flood waters keep on rising. The powerful rain and wind cracked a dam a mile or so away and it finally burst. Whole houses are underwater now!
Anybody who hasn’t made it up here yet, isn’t going to. The street leading to the center is like a raging river. It’s very disconcerting as I look around; I know that only half of the town has made it—and that’s being optimistic.
Three days later…
Water levels are dangerously high and we’re running out of food. The ceaseless rain won’t even let up enough for us to evacuate. Flood waters are hitting the front doors and starting to leak into the rec center. And if that wasn’t bad enough, we’re almost out of clean drinking water. The tap water had gone brown days ago and we only have so many plastic jugs of drinking water left. What a nightmare.
12 hours later…
The water was filling the building like the ocean forcing its way through the hull of a sinking ship. The only thing left for us to do was make our way to the roof. It pains me to say this, but not everyone made it; the sudden rushing of water as the doors broke down took out a great deal of the people who were held up at the center.
There were only ten of us left by the time we made it to the roof. The time it bought us wasn’t much. The water was almost to the edge of the rooftop.
It was hard to hear over the great gusts of wind, but the sound of another helicopter was making its way to us. It was forced to hover just above us. They told us that they couldn’t fit everyone because it’d weigh too much. So we decided to give them the small children; leaving the five of us on the roof as they left.
They said they would be back as soon as they could to get us. But we knew even if they could make it back, it would be too late. We’re all okay with that—knowing at least some children made it to safety.
The forecast only called for about an inch of rain. Funny how that goes…
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