The Passing; Floodwaters
Five days since the storm began. Thunder boomed continuously, with the howling of wind filling the silence between each. Rain was as relentless as the winds, those very winds that uprooted many saplings and ruined many farms. Wooden frames of houses weakened by the endless battering. Some roofs began to leak, sending streams of water coursing down walls and pooling floors. But in some homes, entire sections of the ceiling succumbed to the onslaught, leaving open breaches through which water poured unimpeded.
People used buckets to avoid flooding their houses. They were wise to build their houses supported on stilts, preventing them from getting submerged. Eventually, the floodwaters swallowed the stairs that once connected houses to solid ground. These floodwaters carried a noxious blend of debris and waste, essentially contaminated, it coursed through the land and spilled into the river.
Through the darkness of the storm, the forest was barely illuminated by the flickering light of torch and candles. Only warmth came from hearth fires, without it, the villagers would have been frozen. However supplies began diminishing, as slowly the fires would run out of wood to fuel. The dwindling woodpile threatened to extinguish the fires that provided their only respite from the cold, while stores of food slowly grew scarce as the inhabitants skipped meals to ration. Perhaps they could overcome this disaster, but would they survive the strength of waves? Floodwaters crashed against the sturdy wooden houses, the impact threatening to tear them apart, it was as if an unceasing earthquake was happening. Wooden beams groaned and creaked under the strain. In some homes, the force of the floodwaters proved too much to bear, and walls buckled under the pressure, collapsing inward with a deafening roar. Wind surged through, knocking down everything it could. In the midst of the chaos, a flash of lightning illuminated the sky, followed by a deafening crack of thunder that seemed to split the very heavens.
Parts of the floor crashed downwards, plummeting into the murky waters. People yelled, trying to grab onto the wooden floor, but that would fail as they slid into their graves, the deep, cold waters. They yelled for help as the current drove them towards the river, but nobody dared to open the shaking doors. Because the wind would do it for them. Doors crumbled against the gale, letting water slowly seep through. These winds whistled through the forest, as if calling for people to lead them to their death. Cries of people mixed in with the howling of the storm. They prayed.
"Vinny… this is getting…" Isabella said, shivering.
"I know… I hear them… their cries for help. It's driving me insane." Vincent replied. "Is Lily okay?"
"Yeah… she's with father."
"How's he doing?"
"Alright… not the best… worse than the last few days."
"Okay… I'm gonna go check up—" he began, but was interrupted by more people yelling for help, for God. "...I'll go check up on him."
Isabella nodded. "Be safe…" she yelped, looking at the window from far away, as Vincent went into the old man's room. She slowly approached the rattling window. The paths were completely engulfed. She saw some people trying to swim desperately, but they soon disappeared from her sight.
"Just why…?" she whispered. "Why?" her body trembled as she spoke. "What did we do to deserve this?"
Tears streamed down her cheeks, matching the rain that beat relentlessly against the windowpane. "Were we really not deserving of your kindness, of your help? My God? Will you not answer us?" she murmured. "Please, please help us…"
"If we have done anything wrong… please forgive us…" she prayed, her hands clasped together.
"Please… no more…"
"End our suffering… my God… please…"
Her tears intensified, as she began sobbing. The storm still raged outside. She couldn't shake the feeling that her prayers were falling on deaf ears. Backing off from the window, she continued to pray.
"Oh Lord, hear our cries in this disaster." she began. "We are nothing but your humble servants. We seek your guidance. We seek your protection." she prayed, her voice trembled.
"Please forgive us. You are merciful, kind, compassionate, protective." she continued. "You are our only hope… against this… calamity…"
"Maybe we have done something wrong… but you may not forgive us— at least spare the innocent— the kids. What wrong have they done?"
Her voice grew louder, but still a mere whisper. "Oh Lord… we put all our trust and hope in you… knowing that you are merciful and just. Hear our prayers, and grant us your mercy in our time of need." she pleaded, bowing her head, with her hands still clasped.
But Isabella's prayer fell silent, drowned out by the deafening roar of thunder. Lightning flashed. Her heart pounded in her chest as she watched in horror, her eyes wide with fear. The storm seemed to rage with even greater ferocity, as if in defiance of her pleas for mercy. And then, lightning struck with a blinding intensity right before her watery eyes. The crackling bolt of electricity seared through, striking upon a tree. She felt hopeless, and that people's lives did not matter, and that they were bound to be punished. But she persisted.
"Please, Lord, have mercy on us." she prayed again. "Grant us strength to overcome this storm, and guide us through the darkness."
Isabella breathed heavily, when suddenly, a scream could be heard throughout the hut, one that sent chills down her spine and made her hair on her skin rise. It was Vincent's voice.
"DAD! NO!" he yelled, as Isabella shuddered.