Bedtime Fiction Speculative

In a little farmhouse in Kansas, a young girl named Ella lived with her loving parents. Ella was unlike any other girl; she had an insatiable desire for movement and energy. Every day, after completing her chores, she would run into the vast fields, her arms flung wide as she spun in circles, her laughter carried by the wind.

One afternoon, as the winds picked up and the clouds darkened, Ella felt an irresistible urge to spin. The air was electric, the looming storm an irresistible invitation. She ran outside into the open field, the wind tugging at her clothes and whipping her hair around her face. As she spun, she started to sing, an old melody her mother used to hum, her voice rising and falling with the gusts of wind, harmonizing with the whistling breeze. She twirled, her laughter echoing across the plains as she declared to the open sky, "Wind, take me where you will!"

The pace of her spinning increased, her feet barely touching the ground. As she spun faster and faster, the world around her began to blur, the colors of the prairie merging into a dizzying kaleidoscope. The wind responded to her call, swirling around her in a frenzied dance. Loose dirt and small pebbles started to spin around her, drawn into her whirlwind dance. The tall prairie grass bowed and rustled as if in awe of the spectacle.

Suddenly, a strange sensation overcame her. It was as if an unseen force was pulling her from within, a swirling vortex that seemed to be in sync with her spinning. She was spinning so fast that she felt herself lifted off the ground. With a rush of exhilaration, she realized she was no longer just spinning; she was becoming the spin, the dance itself. A deafening roar filled her ears, and just as the realization hit her, Ella was no longer a young girl dancing in the field but had transformed into a whirling tornado, a magnificent force of nature.

Back at the farm, Ella's parents watched in horror as a tornado formed in the distance. It emerged from the very fields where their daughter loved to play, the same fields where they had last seen her spinning in delight, twirling with the wind. Their hearts filled with dread, they rushed into their storm cellar, praying for Ella's safety and for the storm to pass. The howling wind and the deafening roar of the tornado were the only response to their whispered prayers. They clung to each other, the darkness of the storm cellar mirroring the fear that gripped their hearts.

Once the chaos subsided, they emerged from their safe haven. The sight that met their eyes was one of utter destruction. Their home, the life they had built, lay in ruins. The farmhouse was barely standing, the roof torn away, and the windows shattered. The fields were unrecognizable, the once green expanse now a barren wasteland. The barn where they stored their harvest and tools was nowhere to be seen, the strong wooden structure reduced to splinters scattered across the land.

In the midst of the devastation, they searched for Ella. They called out her name, their voices echoing in the eerie silence that followed the storm. Yet, there was no response, no sight of their cheerful girl with her infectious laughter and love for spinning. Despair washed over them like a wave. Their hearts ached as they imagined the worst, their cries of despair swallowed by the vast emptiness of the plains. The place that once echoed with Ella's laughter and songs was now a silent testament to her absence. The joy of life on the plains had been replaced by a profound loss, a void that was as vast and deep as the plains themselves.

Days turned into weeks, Ella's parents were heartbroken. They missed their vibrant daughter, her laughter, and her twirling dances. The empty fields echoed their loss. They held onto hope that their little girl was still alive somewhere, waiting to be found.

As Ella twirled and spun, transformed into a magnificent tornado, a sense of exhilaration filled her. The world around her was a blur of colors and sounds. The wind, so often her playful companion, was now a part of her. It carried her across the plains with a freedom she had never known. The destruction she left in her path was unseen, lost in the wild dance of wind and earth. She was a whirlwind of energy and power, a force of nature uncaring and unaware of the devastation in her wake.

However, as time passed, Ella began to notice changes. The once familiar landscapes she passed over were now unrecognizable, altered by her turbulent passage. The lush green fields were now barren, the once sturdy homesteads reduced to rubble. As she swept past her own home, she was struck by a profound sense of loss. The farmhouse, the symbol of her carefree childhood, was barely standing, the roof torn away and windows shattered.

The sight of her home, so devastated, was a jarring wake-up call. The reality of the damage she was causing began to seep in, replacing the exhilaration with a growing sense of guilt. She realized that her joyous dance with the wind had unintended consequences. She was not just a carefree spirit dancing with the wind; she was a tornado, a bringer of destruction.

Overwhelmed, Ella attempted to control her path, to limit the destruction she was causing. It was a struggle, a battle against the very force that gave her this incredible power. Each time she passed over a field or a house, she tried to lessen her impact, to spare them from her destructive dance. Gradually, she began to gain some control, to dance with the wind without causing harm. It was a difficult journey, one fraught with guilt and regret. But Ella was determined, for she was not just a tornado, she was a girl who loved the wind, and she would not let this change define her.

One day, Ella found herself hovering near her old home. She saw her parents, their faces aged and lined with worry and sorrow. She yearned to comfort them, to tell them she was okay. Gathering all her will, she fought against the swirling energy within her, trying to regain her human form. The tornado dwindled, the wind and debris settling, and in the midst of it, a figure emerged. Ella stood there, at her parents' doorstep, her clothes tattered, her face streaked with dust but unmistakably their daughter.

Ella's parents, who were sitting on the porch, looked up at the sudden calm. Their eyes widened as they saw a figure emerge from the settling dust. They squinted, trying to make out who it was. As the figure came closer, they realized who it was. Their Ella, who they had feared lost forever, stood before them. The sight of her brought a flood of emotions - relief, joy, shock. They stood up, their bodies trembling, their eyes filled with disbelief and tears.

"Ella?" her mother whispered, her voice quivering. Ella nodded, a tear escaping her own eye. The next moment was a blur as her parents rushed forward, enveloping her in a tight hug. They wept, their tears of joy mingling with the dust on Ella's face. The reunion was filled with laughter and tears, relief and disbelief. They listened as Ella explained her strange journey, her transformation, and her new-found abilities. They held onto her, their touch a reassurance that she was real, that their little girl had come back to them. It was a moment of pure joy, a moment that echoed with Ella's laughter, a sound they had longed to hear. A sound that once again filled their home, bringing life back to the plains.

March 02, 2024 21:10

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Faith Packer
16:40 Mar 11, 2024

It reminds me of the Wizard of Oz, clearly uses the prompt, and is also totally unique! Great job


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Alexis Araneta
15:44 Mar 10, 2024

Great descriptions on here. Great job !


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Dana W
14:22 Mar 03, 2024

I loved this. You have a real gift with words. I can "see" your stories as I read them. They are the kind of stories you can get lost in. You are a talented writer. Never stop.


Denise Glickler
02:46 Mar 05, 2024

Thank you so much! You made my night!


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