It's My Storm - wewrite freewrite Week 4

avatar

This Week's Prompt

The clattering of the tea cup against its saucer rang through the formal living room. Its hand-painted periwinkles and gold leaf rim were normally safe in the hands of the Countess, but today the cup chattered in unsettling clinks. The noise disturbed the Countess’ attempts at composure, so she placed the china safely on the glass table before her. As she did so, the door opened suddenly, making her jump farther back on the silk settee.

“George, must you enter so frighteningly quickly?” She accosted the man, who remained by the doorway.

“My apologies, your ladyship. I will do my best to be less…frightening, in the future.” The butler gave a small smile, to which the Countess responded with a relieved chuckle. Taking her laughter as forgiveness, he walked into the well-decorated space.

“I suppose it’s just this storm that has me on edge,” she confessed, with a brief glimpse to the ever-darkening scene beyond the window’s delicate frame. From their place on the hill, they could ordinarily see a small town in the distance, with vibrant green mountains beyond that. But today all charm was washed out in the sea of deepening purples, grays, and blacks descending into the valley. The Countess had watched as it grew closer, as the rumbles became roars, until it was too much for her to take.

“I thought your ladyship might wish to know that there has been a letter from town,” George ventured. The Countess perked up at the news, and eagerly took the envelope from his gloved hands. He continued, “Your brother has decided to wait out the storm at his office. He feels, and I must agree, that it would be too dangerous to ride back in such weather.”

“At least he’s indoors,” she sighed, “though I do feel he’d be safer here.”

“I understand your fears,” he comforted, “but all storms must—” A flash of light burst into the room, accompanied by a thunderous boom. The china rattled on the table, and the pair felt the very floor beneath them shake. It was enough to crack George’s professionalism into a primal fear, a fear reflected in the Countess’ eyes.


••.•´•.••My Part••.•´•.••

Her brother Stanley however, was not inside or in town, as both she and George had assumed from the letter. He wasn’t even in England, but had secretly flown to America the day before. In fact, he was in a very precarious situation at that exact moment, riding with the “Storm Chasers” from the TV show. He had entered a contest for the chance to go on one of their storm-chasing adventures and won.

It was his favorite show since it had first debuted. He always dreamed about being in one of their weird vehicles chasing after a tornado. Stanley projected himself as a very macho-type guy, but he was afraid of his sister, the Countess. That’s why he had to sneak a flight to America to claim his prize.

The predicament he found himself in, was that the Storm Chaser vehicle he was in had blown its engine and was a sitting duck directly in the path of the quickly approaching tornado. At the exact moment the tornado started tossing the vehicle around, the floor began shaking in England at the family estate.

Stanley got bruised up during the encounter, as did the Storm Chaser guys, but no one was seriously injured. He was more worried about the possibility that it might be on the news and his sister might see it, than he was about his injuries. The next day however, he was a changed man. He’d awakened that morning with a purpose in his life – to stand up for himself.


By ten thirty AM, he was a on a plane back to England.


Even before he’d booked the flight, he concluded that if he’d survived a tornado, he could surely relay the fact that he’d be running his own life from that point on, to his sister. Little did he know that his sister wouldn’t be a problem anymore anyway. The house had collapsed while he was being tornado tossed, and both she and the butler, George, had been killed.

After landing at London’s Heathrow airport, he saw on one of the terminal screens the news of the collapse of the house, and the deaths of his sister and George. He felt numb. He didn’t know what to do. Then he decided to call his Uncle Irwin.

“Where the bloody hell have you been?” screamed Irwin on the other end. “Your sister the Countess is dead and they didn’t find you there; just George!” This is how everyone talks to Stanley; like he’s rubbish. He wasn’t going to just silently take it anymore.

“I went on a trip to America, if it’s any of your business Uncle Irwin. I’m sorry, but I wasn’t aware that at thirty seven years old, I have to check with you first, before I do anything.”

“Now look lad…”

“No! YOU look Uncle Irwin, I’ve had it. Now I’m in control,” he said, and ended the call.

After no one had heard from him for two days, Stanley was found dead in a hotel room from an unknown brain aneurysm that had ruptured during the Storm Chasers tossing he’d experienced.

Source of Images used in this post:

Estate: Image by David Mark from Pixabay
Tornado: Image by skeeze from Pixabay
Plane: Image by Bilal EL-Daou from Pixabay

Power House Creatives Logos FINAL_float.png



0
0
0.000
16 comments
avatar

Quite productive, good job! I seldom find the time to free-write but I am a fan of the thing.

0
0
0.000
avatar

Thank you for the very nice comment!

I'm like you in that, I don't see myself entering many of the freewrites, as they seem to be mostly the 5 minute variety. I just don't have the interest for those types of contests, but this one is pretty cool, picking up a story that's been started by someone else, (with no 5 minute time limit). I have fun with this one!

0
0
0.000
avatar

Nice development!

There were some lines in the preliminary template that made me think that the scene was placed in an earlier time. Surely the Countesses exist nowadays as well. I think Princess Diana was a countess. But look at this phrase below, specifically at the word "ride"

He feels, and I must agree, that it would be too dangerous to ride back in such weather.

To me, it points to a horse ride. Again, all is possible and nowadays one can ride a horse as a pleasure. Yet I doubt this would be the choice of transportation before the storm.

Surely, this could also point to a bus ride. But it seemed doubtable to me that the Count that has a mansion and servants would have to ride a bus from his office in the city to his mansion.

Though I might not fully appreciate the word "ride". Maybe a drive in a car could also be considered a ride. What do you think?

0
0
0.000
avatar

You know, that's very interesting and I believe you are likely correct, but (being honest here) I do remember noticing the word "ride" but it didn't translate for me into riding horseback. Maybe it was because when I'd gotten that far I was already plotting it out as a story taking place in the current time frame?

I just can't remember why the word didn't jump out at me, as it should have.

I think it could refer to a ride in a car, since he probably would be driven by a chauffeur and therefore be "riding," but I think it's more likely that your interpretation is correct. :)

0
0
0.000
avatar

Yeah, the ride with a chauffeur fits the template snugly. It's interesting how we all perceive different things from the same startup template. Cheers!

0
0
0.000
avatar

It's interesting to see everyone's interpretations.

When I wrote the prompt, I imagined it taking place around the time that @mgaft1 said, but I intentionally left it vague. So modern day or historical are both fine. He could be riding a horse, a bike, in a carriage, in a car, whatever you all wanted for your stories. 😉

0
0
0.000
avatar

Yes, I think it being vague had something to do with the direction I went. The way you used it was very clever as a key part of the prompt, giving the feeling of going one way, but also allowing for a broader interpretation. Thanks for the explanation!

0
0
0.000
avatar
(Edited)

I like how you brought another kind of storm into your story, and how it paralleled the experience his sister had. You really made me root for Stanley, and it was so sad when he died! It was great to have him grow as a person first, though, and finally stand up for himself.
-@zeldacroft

0
0
0.000
avatar

Thank you for describing the experience of your reading of the story and how you felt about Stanley. A comment such as yours is humbling, considering a character that I created became alive, and evoked compassion in the reader. That is the greatest compliment I've ever had! :)

0
0
0.000
avatar

Well my goodness, good riddance to the both of them, the manipulative, controlling, backstabbing self-servers that they were.
A great read! Every word took me by surprise. Nice.

0
0
0.000
avatar

Thank you @owasco, for reading and for your wonderful comments! Always appreciated my friend! :)

0
0
0.000
avatar

I totally did not see the end coming. Great writing.

0
0
0.000
avatar

Beautiful, it's been a while since I last did free-writing, thanks for reminding me I have to get back at it!

0
0
0.000
avatar

Thank you for your nice comment. There are a lot of writing contests, including wewrite. I like the wewrite contest because there isn't a time limit, or word limit rule. Just jump in whenever you're ready! And welcome to steemit!

0
0
0.000