Hurricane Wills

Hurricane Wills — page 1 — With thanks to Terri Passenger Chartered Educational Psychologist for her guidance

Hurricane Wills — page 2 — Chapter One There’s a hurricane smashing through our house There’s a hurricane smashing trashing bash ing through our house CRASH BANG WAL LOP The doors are slamming chairs are falling cushions flying feet running voices shouting STOP STOP STOP STOP I’m hiding in my bedroom I’ve barricaded my door I’m not scared but I don’t want to be caught up in it and I don’t want the hurricane turning my room upside down inside out A hurricane can cause total devastation It can flatten everything in its path Can you even begin to imagine that Now try to imagine liv ing with one I bet you can’t 1

Hurricane Wills — page 3 — There’s a hammering on my door now Go away I yell Leave me alone The hammering is harder louder I put my hands over my ears to muffle it I see the door shifting I run and lean against it You’re not coming in I yell Go and take a running jump Go and take a running jump off a cliff I hear laughter then and a torrent of words I don’t want to hear them I press my fingers into my ears to block them out A heavy kick shud ders the door followed by another And then it goes silent So silent Pin-drop si lent Is it over I wait Not a sound I wait a few minutes longer then pull the chair away from the door I’m about to take hold of the handle when the door crashes open WALLOP onto my fist and a deafening BOO makes my heart boomer ang across my chest A grinning face shoves itself into mine and shouts GOTCHA before it ya hoos and giddy-ups all the way down the stairs Why don’t you grow up I bellow after it Why can’t you be normal I growl under my breath nursing my bruised fist 2

Hurricane Wills — page 4 — I hide my book under the bed There’s no point in trying to read now and I don’t want the pages scribbled on I make my way downstairs into the living room There are cushions all over the floor The coffee table is upside down Mom’s favorite photograph of me and my brother is in the fireplace The glass is broken into hundreds of pieces Mom is sitting on the sofa and I can see that she has been crying Wills is cuddled up next to her but I know she doesn’t want him there Not after what he’s done even if he can’t help it Mom’s mad at you Chris he says smugly Chris cross Chris cross I look at my mother who shakes her head dully No she’s not I say She is she is she is insists my brother Mad as mad can be Chris because you made all this mess and spilled popcorn all over the kitchen floor and it’s all sticky wicky I don’t bother to argue Shall I make you a cup of tea Mom I ask 3

3

PAGE 3 OF 251

The only kids' eBook subscription service that offers thousands of high-quality books from well known publishers like HarperCollins, National Geographic and others.

JavaScript Required

Whoops! We're sorry but Epic doesn't work properly without JavaScript enabled. Check your web browser's settings to make sure it's enabled.