The dark gray ominous funnel swirled in the field with the burned down house near the house. The natural terror's movements were neither fast nor slow, but its arrival imminent. Thoughts of getting to the basement bombarded in the child's mind but all she could do was stand rooted, unable to move, watching fascinated and afraid. Her blue green eyes wide like saucers imagined Ms. Gulch riding her bicycle out of the spirals and turning into the Wicked Witch of the West as the destruction and damage of the force of its wrath that swooped toward the house. The destruction and damage would be great or little. What and how much it would destroy and damage was unknown to the child. That added to her fascination and fear. 
    She didn't need news reports or her parents' warnings. She knew. It was a tornado even though she'd never seen one before. She'd had to go the basement several times before during tornado warnings many times in her young life but that was only a warning, a possibility, not that the tornado existed. They were real, not a story or an event that occurred elsewhere that affected others but not her. Not now. It was real. It was there before her very eyes.   
    The darkness thickened. The winds rattled the house's windows. The night masked, hiding the movement of the tornado, and it seemed to sneak closer to the house. The storm and the tornado were here. The child didn't really want to go to the basement. Yes, that's what her parents, teachers and police had taught them to do. Go the basement during a tornado. Her and her younger sister's bedroom were in the basement and they'd be safe during the tornado. She could even sleep safe and sound while the tornado blew the house.     
     The house wouldn't get ripped off its foundation by the tornado. That only happened in The Wizard of Oz. But what if it happened? Was it possible? Could the tornado rip off the roof? What then? Her parents would be in the the basement with her and her sisters so they would be safe. What if the tornado broke the playground and blew away the swing? Of course, mom and dad would replace it. Would Mom and Dad's cars fly in the the swirling winds and get dropped on the house? She'd watched Wizard of Oz too many times. What if the tornado knocked over trees and broke windows or doors? She wouldn't know. She'd sleep through the whole tornado. Probably her family wouldn't experience any destruction and damage from the tornado. That added to her sense of safety, that hope and assurance that all would be well.
     Perhaps the tornado coming at night made the child question if it wasn't just some figament of her imagination. Maybe it wasn't really real, but she knew it was. The darkness added to its mystery, to its secrets and that made it both fascinating and frightening. She wished she didn't have to go the basement and go to sleep. Why couldn't she stand there at the sliding glass window and watch the tornado? She'd already deduced it wasn't going to hurt her or her family. It might not even come to the house. It might swirl right past the house. The night cloaked the tornado in illusion which caused her flights of fantasy, her beliefs and ideas that the tornado and its havoc was like The Wizard of Oz. Wistfully and relunctantly, the child drug herself away from the sliding glass window. She slowly walked away to the safety of her basement and her bed. She was a good girl. She always did what she was told.