BOOM! CRASH!! The thunder and lightning were nearly on top of each other. A new noise followed. A ripping sound. A splitting sound. A fiery sound. I rushed to the front yard where a tree not 20ft. away from me had caught a fiery crown. It wasn't long before the flames had reached the front of the plant, scorching it's face and tearing its leaves from its grasp. Who to call? Panic. That word is often misused. Today I felt true panic. I did not flail or cry or scream. I froze. My mind as blanck as an empty wall. My musles tightened and twitched. I finally snapped out of it when another gut wrenching boom echoed through the town. The tree teetered. If it fell one way, the house would share the flames, and if it fell any other way, the rest of the forest would. Although my senses were back, they still lagged a great deal. My dad's number was already in the phone. I pressed my phone up to my ear and hit dial. My dad's cheerful voice came through the phone
"What are you doing up so early?" He asked.
"Thunderstorm," I replyed somewhat layed back. " I mean there's a fire in the front yard!" I said, this time a lot more urgent sounding.
"Did you call the fire department?"
I didn't think about this. The fire department, Alex. You know, the people who handle fires! How could I be so STUPID! Without warning I hung up on my dad and called the fire department. Apparently they had had a lot of these sort of calls this morning.
The firemen arrived and extinguished the flames before it engulfed any thing else. In the end I was left with a crispy tree, a confused father, the true meaning of panic, and a bed waiting for me to climb back into.