Emergency in Calle Wulfric

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Alice Boe

It was midnight.

The sky was being lit by constant lightning. The thunder rumbled. The rain never stopped ever since it started pouring the day before and the wind was howling; it had uprooted some trees and broke open an open window in Sergio's cabin. The bus was gently swaying because of the wind blowing against it.

Since the roof of the bus constituted the ceiling of all the girls' capsules (there was no insulation between the roof and my capsule), I could hear the downpour's drumming.

Before it became dark on the previous day, Timothy and Kirt toyed in vain with some switches, trying to turn on the night lamps outside the bus.

With no lights, it was pitch black outside. We weren't able to see anything outside the window.

Timothy, Kirt and I couldn't find where Sergio placed his guns, so the only way we secured ourselves at night on that bus was by locking its doors tightly.

Many hours had passed since Sergio, and my teachers had left the camp. They had not returned. We were worried. With Sergio gone, I felt afraid of being in that camp. Anything could happen to us there. We were a bunch of unarmed children, alone, in the forest. The only thing that shielded us from the elements and anything dangerous outside was that huge chunk of metal with windows made of bullet-proof glass.

Often that night, I got frightened because I mistook any branches I saw, under the light of some lightning in the clouds, to be a man approaching the bus, only to realize later that it was just a branch when another flash of lightning slightly illuminated the camp for me.

Shifaly Udawatte

At 1:04 a.m, I noticed Mr. Seneviratne was coming towards our building, with an emergency lamp in his hand. His shirt was wet.

He shielded his head with a magazine from the pouring rain using his free hand. As soon as he came close to our building, Miss Dayani helped him by taking the lamp from his hand. I saw him get inside, and I saw Miss Dayani shut the door. He had gone out to speak with the Dam officials who hosted us about the weather. I wondered what was the news that they told him.

Where we stayed was in a temporary structure made of metal and wood. To my relief, the building we were in didn't fall even though it shook violently as a result of the raging winds and the incessant rainfall that pounded it.

Even with the windows shut, I could hear the wind howl madly.

Like me, Avanthi couldn't sleep, so we kept each other company that stormy night by chatting about school.

Soon the candle in my room ran out. Avanthi took out another one from the packet which Ms. Dayani gave us when the electricity went off. I helped light it. We then removed the old candle from the candle-holder and placed the new candle in there.

Hernanda Wilkinson

While some of my classmates have bad memories during storms, the memories I have are beautiful.

After my parents died in a car crash, I wasn't orphaned immediately because Gramps and Granny took me in, when I was six. I lived with them until I was 13 in Walter's Avenue, Herndon, Kansas. Gramps had a big farm that fed us all, even after he died when I was 8.

I miss Herndon, Kansas. Since the town was small, we all knew each other. We were like a big family.

Herndon was my home. When Granny died, I had to leave the place because I was put into a foster care system.

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