My cousin and I wandered through the woods calling your name until we reached the grey shack, the one without the picket fence. I stood in the minute yard glaring at the red door wondering if you were trapped behind those walls, under her spell once again. We banged on the door and called out for you. Still, it was eerily silent. Hot tears rolled down my cheeks as I picked up a few rocks and hurled them at the hag's house. I didn’t give a damn if I broke a window. I didn’t give a damn about anything at that moment.
At once, a streak of lightning appeared followed by a smack of thunder and it began to pour. The rain came down in sheets, the wind picked up and both of us were drenched. We hid under a flimsy willow tree and waited for the storm to subside but it kept raining, the sky seemed furious like me.
“Rain, rain go away,” we began to whisper like desperate, tired children. As we watched the lightning continue to strike the sky, I screamed, “I have to find you,” in a hoarse voice, and it was then my cousin pointed off in the distance toward the sky. One house away, the sun was illuminating the bushes, shining over the entire yard. The vicious storm was only hovering over the ugly, grey shack.