My Parents were Worried

    "Pitter patter," said the rain as it hit the windows.
     "Clap," said the lightning as it hit the earth.
     "Boom!" roared the thunder.
     It was midnight, and my sister had not come home yet. She was suppossed to have been back an hour ago, after her school dance. I knew what was going on. She was probably still out with her hunky boyfriend having a great time. My parents on the other hand, were freaking out.
     I walked into the living room where they were sitting. My father was staring out the door longingly, as a puppy would stare out the window longing for his master to return. His eyes were as wide as dinner plates, and they glistened like shiny diamond jewelery. He kept fidgeting with his hands, like they were ten drumsticks on ten drums. "Don't overreact," I told him, but I received no reply.
     My mother was sitting on the couch beside him, off in her own world as well. Tears were dripping out of her eyes as if they were dripping faucets. She was staring out the window as well. Then, she got up and started pacing  back and forth. I swear I could see a path in the rug where she was walking, and her face was as white as a ghost.
     I sat down beside my dad and felt his hands. They were colder than winter in Antarctica, and they kept on drumming.
     Meanwhile, I watched as my mother created a trench as deep as the Grand Canyon in our rug. I wish they wouldn't worry so much. I knew that my sister was ok, and I knew she was really going to get it when she returned.

The End