[ WP ] Set in the American Dustbowl , You and your family are trapped in your house during a vicious dust-storm and you 're fairly certain there is something else lurking out there amidst the churning grey sand .

My father rushed into the house and slammed the door behind him with a look of terror on his face. It was the day that the everything changed. Way out here, sandstorms were a normal part of life. The grey sand however, was something entirely different. 
 
 It seemed to take on a life of its own, not conforming to the motion of the normal sand. It started out as a subtle difference, almost as if it was trying to calibrate itself to move correctly, but faltering every so often. The grey sand was spread out, mixing itself in and trying to camouflage itself. 
 
 The first grey night, I could have sworn I heard someone scream. It startled me awake, and I was unsure if it was my mind trying to make sense of the wind howling. I ran to my father, who was still sleeping. I quickly forgot about the noise and drifted to sleep. 
 
 The next morning, the sand had become thicker and more relentless. We were unable to leave the house, and the TV had no reception. Fortunately we still had power, and a small stockpile of food. When you live as far out as we do, you have to make sure you are prepared for anything. 
 
 The second grey night, I am sure I heard someone scream. It startled me awake, and I immediately rushed to the window. The sandstorm was so thick, that I could n't see even a foot away from my bedroom window. The grey sand had become more concentrated and pronounced and formed a long streak that was swimming through the sand. I was able to catch a glimpse of it every time it passed by the window. The sand receeded quickly, and brought my attention to a small skeleton on my porch. Before I could really understand what I was looking at, the sand engulfed it and drifted back to the window. 
 
 Once again I ran to my father who was asleep and I explained what I had just witnessed. He told me that my imagination was getting the best of me, and to forget about it. I wish I could have taken the advice. 
 
 The following morning, the howling seemed to be louder. My father walked into the kitchen and stepped in a pile of grey sand that seemed to be accumulating on the window sill. One of the windows must have cracked during the night. He was able to find a few small pieces of plywood in the basement and patched the crack up as best as he could with the resources he had available. 
 
 I decided to stay with my father that night, knowing that I would end up there anyways. In the dead of the night, we heard glass shatter. My father ran into the kitchen, and the grey cloud was swirling around the room. We both stared at the scene before us, intrigued and frightened at the same time. It reminded me of a camera focusing, the way that the sand seemed to gather and solidify. I was frozen, but I could not look away. The sand started taking a human form slowly. Whatever it was, it was testing its ability to move and figuring out what joints move what. After what I can only assume was about a minute or two, the sand all fell to the ground like a snake shedding its skin. 
 
 The figure that stood before me was my father. I looked down at my white knuckles and the hand they were holding on to. I looked back up and saw my father with an expression of horror that I have never seen before. We both turned and ran for the door without saying a word and the thing followed. My father reached for the door but the thing pulled him away. I suppose he thought that whatever was outside was less scary than what was in front of us. I instinctively grabbed for the door and opened it, and a huge plume of sand came rushing in. The pressure change was so intense that I could feel sand cutting my skin. I reached for my father's hand and charged into the sand. 
 
 I know I made it at least to the edge of the deck before I fell. I hit the ground hard and slid a few feet from the momentum. It was surreal how the sand just vanished. I stood up and helped my dad to his feet. We looked in front of us and the sand was gone. We both turned around at the same time, and stared at the wall of sand before us. It was twisting and churning like a tornado centered on our house alone. Without thinking, we both ran to the car and got in. All we knew is that we wanted to get away. We were a safe distance from the house when I rested my head on my fathers arm, feeling lucky that we were alive and in once piece. 
 
 It was a little while before either of us said anything. I turned to my father and asked `` Are you ok?'' He turned to look at me and the expression on his face changed. Almost in an instant, he turned to sand and I had a feeling of vertigo as my head fell from where his shoulder just was. I instinctively grabbed for the steering wheel and jumped into the drivers seat. A wall of smoke materialized in fromt of the car. I hit the brakes as hard as I could but it was too late and I closed my eyes as I went into the sand.
