My husband’s gone to the supermarket to get the groceries for our family. We all saw him safely get into his work van, the hailstones hammering on top of the vehicle. He’s been nearly over an hour.

“When will he be home, mum?” Celia calls from the living room. We have planks of wood covering the smashed windows, but there’s a small gap at the bottom that Celia can see out of. She’s waiting for him.

The hailstones make loud noises against the wood but we can’t see the scattered dead bodies any more. That’s a sight I would like to remove from my daughter's mind forever.

“Not long, sweetie.” I reply calmly, but my mind is in a panic. What if he doesn’t come back? What if he gets hurt at the shops? What if he never made it at all?

“He’s back.” Celia's voice shouts loudly from the living room. She runs toward the front door before I can stop her.

“Wait.” I try to grab onto her but she runs past my hands.

The front door bangs against the wall when she pulls it open. I watch my husband climb out of the van with two plastic bags in one hand, the other hand holding up the umbrella homemade with metal. It's a flat surface that makes the hailstones bounce all over the place. I’ve told him multiple times that two pieces that go down each side would be better, but he wouldn’t listen.

“Daddy.” my daughter runs out into her father's arms.

He falls back onto the floor with a loud bang. The metal falls and he’s laying out in the open with Celia on top of him.

“Celia.” we both shout her name.

I’m crippled by fear of what’s going to happen to the two of them. They both lay still and the heavy hailstones bang down on them. They fall like boulders. Some small pieces, but most huge like rocks.

Tears are streaming down my face. Their cries and screams are echoing around my head like a chilling siren.

Why would Celia do that? Why wouldn’t he tell her to not come any nearer? Why didn’t I grab her and stop her?

“Why aren’t you moving?” I cry out to them. Their bodies slowly being covered in destructive hailstones.