No one ever said that life would be quite like this. Living out of bags for a life like this. Homes in ruins, never realized how bad a hurricane could screw us. Everything demolished, laid flat like plains. Deserted homes and memories lay on the ground like trash. You see it on tv, you point the finger in blame. How could you not leave, endanger your family because you just dont wanna leave? How about the shortage of gas, the ones with no means, the ones that have too many in a family to pack up and flee. It’s a real struggle, sit there and see, the devastation on a parents face because their babies might not eat. No hot food, no cold water to drink, no roof over your head and all you can do is sit and stress. Bathed in it, no relief in sight, no end to the pain in the near future. Not knowing if itll be months or a year before everything is in the clear. Not knowing if your city will be trashed or rebuilt. Not knowing if you have to stay or move. Not knowing when you’ll be able to work and resume a normal life. You have to adapt to the new, forget about the old. It’s harder when the months are growing cold. It’s almost Christmas, not a single tree even grows. All blown over, cracked like small twigs, Michael sure had a way of making this feel like the end. It’s sad really, depression kicks in. Everywhere is hiring because so many people have had to leave the communities, businesses suffering, households in shambles. It’s a real thing, it’s a direct hit, people cars are marked with yellow marker to display their hit, insurance adjusters and scam artists alike, come together just to fight on who can get richer on other peoples losses. It’s disgusting really when you think about the tosses. Family photos and memories are gone, homes and toys. The last bit of memories for those who went through it alone. Senior citizens are struggling, lost everything, pictures of their partners lay on the ground wet and destroyed. Urns full of ashes, someone important to someone else is now gone. Some people will truly never know what it’s like to be stripped of every possession they own, while others sit with the last bit of the possessions that they owned. Looking through rubble to find any memory of their home, looking for family pictures, knick knacks that weren’t destroyed. Things that ment the world to them, now laying in someone else yard. Gone. That was Michael, this is Michael. The storm has passed but we still have cleanup, we still have rebuild, we still have hope.