Drew 1

Hayley Drew
Dr. DiSarro
ENG101 05
19 May 2014

From Song to Short Story
Carrie Underwoods Blown Away

Blown Away

Lidia stood in front of the cloudy mirror examining the damages from last nights
drunken rage. The deep purple blotches on her body would prove difficult to mask with just
concealer. She slipped on a long sleeve shirt and jeans that would help her avoid questioning.
Walking to the door she paused, hand hovering just above the reflective doorknob. Was
there an excuse she could conjure up that would justify staying locked in her room to avoid the
pain in the world? She couldnt become a Rapunzel, locked away in this southern tower forever,
awaiting the rescue of her prince.
Mama, watch over me. She whispered as she quietly slipped out the door.
The house was still quiet with the hope of a peaceful morning, but as she walked into the
kitchen she saw him sitting at the round kitchen table with a coffee mug and a bottle of Jack. She
had high hopes of missing breakfast to find him already passed out on the couch, today was not
going to be so lucky. Neither of them spoke as she grabbed a glass to get water from the tap.
She sipped the cold, mineral-saturated water as she gazed out the window at the ancient
oak at the top of the hill overlooking the ranch. Her mind drifted to those warm spring days her
mother would take her up to watch the clouds drift by, feeling the heat of the day and the shelter
of the tree. An ominous tone hung in the sky as if Mother Nature were reflecting her sentiments.
She snapped back to reality at the sound of her fathers gravelly voice.
Did you finish your history homework? He said tilting his cup back and forth.
No She replied at a barely audible level
I was always good at history. Ill help ya.
I dont want your help.
Drew 2
If I offer to help you, you take it. He said as he got to his feet, raising his voice. She
just stood there praying he would leave her alone this time.
Look at me when Im talking to you
She was frozen, not in fear, but because she knew if she ran to avoid him, he would only
grow in irritation. He got closer to her, slapping her on the back of the head. She grabbed her
head turning to look at him. Lightning crashed in the distance. She backed away from him slowly
and he followed. She could smell the whiskey on his breath and see the rage in his eyes.
The wind started to pick up and the sirens started to sound. Now was the time to get to
the cellar. Her father stalled for a moment, looking around to find his bottle for another swig. She
seized her moment and bolted for the door, the only things he was interested in protecting from
the storm were his sins. He barely flinched as the door shuttered behind her. The wind wrestled
with her hair and clothing as she ran up the hill to the big oak in hopes of protection.
The sirens continued to wail out as she collapsed at the base of the trunk, her body
throbbing from the bruises under her heavy clothes. She looked at her house in the distance,
seeming smaller than ever, dwarfed beneath the wrathful Oklahoma sky. The long untrimmed
grass, in the acres that surrounded, lay flat in the wind. As she sat motionless as the base of the
tree she began to envision the path of the storm.
She watched as a twister formed a mile out. Growing stronger and stronger with each
rotation, it moved its way across the plain, slowly encroaching upon the little house. The moment
it hit she had no remorse, no feeling in her soul. No matter how many windows shattered, no
matter how many nails were ripped from the floor, there would never be enough wind in
Oklahoma to rip the nails out of the past.*
She felt no shame in hoping he had not made it to the shelter in time. It was probable he
had gone to pass out. She called it sweet revenge*
Unfortunately, they were only thunderstorm sirens.