Looking out the cabin window, I watch as heavy beads of rain smash into the glass and explode like tears falling from the heavens. The orange buoys in the water sway back and forth repeating themselves as the waves try carrying them out to sea. In the distance I spot the tall brick lighthouse brightly shining its light through the thick, evening fog. The water is rising fast and the waves are becoming stronger. The light house knows it must work hard to warn the sailors. It is coming, the storm of the century. The local fisherman have already closed shop and headed home. Everyone boards up windows and gathers supplies that will help to ride out the devastating storm that approaches. Children sob as they rest their heads on their mothers' laps and husbands' sooth the worries of their wives. The local radio station is the only contact to all who listen. A twister has been seen traveling fiercely down the highway tearing up the earth and destroying the beautiful homes that once rested peacefully in its' path. Causalities are great in number, the full extend is unknown. 'Why'� is the question of the hour? But I know why. It is not a secret to me. The town has sinned greatly, I have sinned. For I am but a simple country girl, who gave into temptations and desires of the wicked. We have angered the ones that call themselves the 'ancients'�. They gave us life and helped us grow. They showed us the way to survive and become strong. To care and nurture all living things around us, including humanity. But we, as a race, became cocky. We learned what they taught us and did what we do best. We manipulated it. We have harmed and murdered our own. We have destroyed such a simple thing as nature with rapid reproduction of technology. We betrayed ourselves. The 'ancients'� have watched us. We are no longer worthy of life in their eyes. They see us as an infestation, like millions of cockroaches scattering everywhere breeding in numerous numbers. They have come to exterminate us. I understand. I watch as the twister approaches my home, pieces of debris are tossed from the tornado. I open my front door and stand at its feet. It is my turn. It has finally come for me. I am not afraid, though. I bravely take my place at its feet, waiting for it to destroy me and take my precious life. 'I'm sorry'� I shout aloud towards the heavens. I pray for them to take pity on my soul as their beast devours my body.

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