Story

• P1: Her breath echoed loudly and the frosty air before her fogged the street view. She sat by the window of the bitter room, looking out of her new home. It was storming, which is rare for this small town in South Australia. She could remember when the days were bright, warm and filled with life. But everything has changed.
• P2: The skeletal frames of grey houses glared menacingly, confining the prisoners inside. Tomb-like houses, filed in a neat line. This new world is different from Ellie's old life. Her golden hair used to glisten brightly in the sun, but now it sits in a greasy nest atop her head. Her once caramel glowing skin is gone and dull porcelain white takes its place.
• P3: The home that she once knew and cherished was broken. Scarred, rough, and stretched. For a long time, this home sheltered her, it grew with her and changed with her. It was her. Then ‘it’ came along. It took the home from her and used it for itself, a leech. Her body was stolen and changed.
• P4: It first happened to the neighbours, the Whitelocks. For the first couple of weeks, they were never seen. The occasional delivery and mailman was the only movement. Ellie would sit at the window indefinitely, just watching their house for any sign of life. After two months, they started coming out, but it was scarce, rare and only for short periods of time. They didn't like being out for too long. But now it has happened to her. For the first few weeks, Ellie never left the house. Her once garden full of life, shrivelled with her and the grass, now a maze.
• P5: She was isolated. Lost.
• P6: The storm she had once watched from afar was at her doorstep, forcing itself into her life. And all she could do was let it in.
• P7: It leeches onto her, sucking every last bit of life. She is trapped, confined. She is imprisoned, swaying back and forth in the old boston rocking chair. Her breath fighting with the small creature, cradled in her arms.
• P8: Its eyes light up, despite the scary world around them. Its skin was smooth as a baby, with a honey-blonde mess of curls, settled on its head. Its soft hands unclasp, slowly reaching up towards her face. Its tiny hands reassure her and a small muffled laugh escapes her lips, breaking the leeching bond.
• P9: It attaches to her, a small smile escaping the sides of its face. She is whole. She sways back and forth in her old boston rocking chair, watching her beautiful baby below her. Her breath synced with the small human, cradled in her arms. Its eyes reflect the beautiful mother she is, despite all her flaws and troubles.
• P10: She thought, that even through all of the struggles and changes it has brought upon her, the rain will always come to an end. And when it does, the colour on the streets will come out from hiding, the flowers will bloom and the birds will awaken.
• P11: There was a spark in her eyes, a light that had been dimmed but not extinguished. Her body which had been changed, had brought a life into this world. The stretch marks that weave her body tell stories of her resilience and strength.
• P12: The storm is now over. She won’t remember how she made it through, or how she managed to survive. She won’t even be sure, in fact, whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain. After that storm, Ellie is not the same person who walked in, that’s what this storm is all about.