Hello and welcome to day 25 of 31 Days of Terror.

It was the summer of 2015.

I lived in a cute cottage built in the forties with my husband and three children in Huntington, West Virginia.

We started renting this home in November because my husband started pharmacy school.

It felt like we were starting over with no family close by.

That year was full of new beginnings, school and jobs and I gave birth to our youngest that January.

So the house was definitely buzzing with stress but fun as well.

That summer we experienced very humid and wild midwestern weather.

It reminded me of hurricane weather growing up in the south.

Every single day you could cut the air with a knife and could predict by 4pm we were going to have a severe thunderstorm.

This particular day was no different and the storms continued into the night.

I woke up to get another storm rolling in so I went around and made sure there was no flooding and checked in on all the kids.

My son landed and was upstairs in his room completely unaware of the rain and the thunder.

Our office was next to his room.

The girls were downstairs across the hall from my room. I found we else are awake and ready to nurse so I took her to my bed.

I was sitting up in bed, getting else or back to sleep.

All you could hear was the rain pelting the house.

Then out of nowhere lightning hit our neighbor's flagpole outside of my window.

It was so unbelievably loud.

I only jumped but within that split second my two year old screamed and then I let out the mama warrior scream and then scared the shit out of my husband.

She high-tailed it out of her bed and into my room faster than I thought a toddler ever could.

My son still asleep and completely oblivious, then walked downstairs and asked what we were yelling about.

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