Hurricane Fury

The hurricane warnings were blaring, but my mom was dead set on airing out the apartment.

"Mom, it's dangerous," I told her, "don't open the windows."

But, as usual, she knew better. In the middle of the night, while I was asleep, she snuck out and yanked open the sliding doors to the balcony.

The wind went wild.

The glass shattered, a hurricane exploding right into the living room. I was thrown off the couch, the wind lifting me like a rag doll. I reached for my mom, begging her to pull me back.

She was terrified, but not for me. She kicked my hands away, her face twisted with something ugly.

"Don't blame me," she yelled, her voice lost in the gale, "when you're gone, your house and your money belong to your brother!"

I went flying off the balcony, a 19-story freefall. Dead on impact.

She went inside and cooked a big crab feast for my dad and my brother, justifying it all with, "If she had just opened the windows when I asked, this wouldn't have happened!"

They took all my savings, gave my apartment to my brother for his wedding pad, sucked every last drop of value out of me.

Then I woke up.

It was three hours before the storm. My mom was on my phone, a video call.

"Honey, hurry up and come get us! The wind is crazy out here!"

Chapter 1

"Come get us, the wind is crazy out here!"

My mom's voice, distorted by the roar of wind, echoed through my phone. I could practically feel the phantom pain in my body, the freefall from 19 stories. I was sweating buckets, trying to get my breath back.

Last time around, that hurricane was the end of me.

I'd tried to reason with her that night. Told her it was like a wind tunnel if you opened the balcony doors. No one listened to me. And then, in the dead of night, she'd done it anyway. The glass doors had shattered, and the living room became a war zone of wind and broken glass. I was sleeping on the couch, totally exposed.

The wind tossed me around like a tumbleweed. I grabbed the door frame, screamed for my mom to help.

“Mom, help me!”

The icy rain plastered my cotton pajamas to me as I clung to the frame. My mom just stared, wide-eyed and horrified. She’d finally gotten what she wanted.

Neighbors were yelling, lights flickered on in the apartments around me. I had no clue why the doors were open, since I'd triple checked them before I'd fallen asleep. That didn’t matter though. I just needed her to pull me back.

Instead, she kicked me. Hard.

“Get away from me! You’ll get me killed too!"

I couldn't believe it. Her face was contorted with anger, with hatred, like she was finally letting out something she'd been holding onto for years.

“You give us five thousand a month for rent? I know your salary is around thirty thousand! And you won’t loan your brother money to buy a place? You’re a horrible daughter.”

My heart felt like someone was squeezing it.

She’d always pretended to be fair. Like she split everything equally between me and my brother. Now, I was seeing what she really thought....