To say that my experience was unique would be a lie. However, it was my own version of a living nightmare.\r\n\r\nAfter the five hour drive to my grandmother\'s house in Kentwood, Louisiana, which should only have taken an hour, everyone was tense and exhausted. Everything seems to be a blur now, but I will never forget the living conditions to follow.\r\n\r\nHaving nearly the entire side of my father\'s family (nearly nineteen people) cramped into one country house was quite an interesting situation. As we turned off the highway and onto the gravel road leading to my grandmother\'s house, I remember seeing my younger cousins acting like typical children, running around and acting foolish, and already getting on my nerves. Everyone unloaded the contents of their cars and parked our cars in a separate garage to prepare for the storm. No one could have prepared for what would happen the next day.\r\n\r\nAround 8 AM, I awoke to screaming children and roaring wind. Everyone started worrying, and we had soon lost electricity and running water. The tremendous trees that once magnificently stood around the house were suddenly falling all around the house, but never once fell on the house. \r\n\r\nThe situation that followed will forever haunt me. The two-bedroom, two bathroom house was as uninviting as the cold tile that lined the floors. The hot summer air was smothering, almost as smothering as the doom that had enveloped my home of New Orleans. After the storm had passed, many trees and branches lined the driveway like stunt cars in a Evil Knievel stunt. After sweating and cleaning the driveway, we soon realized that we needed to conserve water and electricity; it was miserable having no air conditioning and screaming children. Our nerves were as shot as the looters were back home. Where I was staying, people were murdering each other over generators and gasoline. It was like hell on earth. The house was not as bad as some others. It did not have a missing roof, a flooded floor, or spray painted body search numbers on the door. \r\n\r\nDue to fortunate circumstances, I had the opportunity to return home earlier than most. The jaunting sight of trees split in half like toothpicks and the line of traffic longer than my patience was something to write home about. Having to eat spam and boil water before I could bathe or drink was a small price to pay for finally being in my own home after my hellish experience.