I know, I know! I need to update my other stories!! But my USB broke, and I lost all my files!!! ARRRGGGHH!!!
Happy Turkey Day, though!
Enjoy!
The Thanksgiving Turkey
Five-year-old Danny Fenton watched with wide blue eyes as his mother placed a steaming, golden-brown turkey on the table, next to a generous bowl of hot, buttery mashed potatoes. Sitting beside him, dressed in a warm black sweater and light blue pants, was his seven-year-old sister, Jasmine (or Jazz, as she preferred).
"The turkey looks great this year, Mom!" she said eagerly, then muttered under her breath, "It hasn't tried to eat us yet, anyway."
"Got that right, Jazz-erincess!" agreed Jack Fenton, as he took a great whiff of the food. "Don't you think, Danny-boy?" he added.
Danny, his eyes still trained on the turkey, frowned, but nodded anyway. He did not say anything. His mother, Maddie, poured them all a glass of apple cider before sitting down.
"Why don't you do the honors, Jack?" said Maddie, after the family had given thanks (Danny still had not said a word). Jack grinned and took the knife and prongs from his wife.
Danny watched as the knife sunk into the turkey's flesh. The delicious scent of roasted turkey wafted through the room, but to Danny, it might as well have been the smell of putrefaction. Jack served a slice of turkey to everyone, and then passed around the bowl of mashed potatoes.
It was midway through the dinner when Maddie looked over at her son's untouched plate and frowned worriedly.
"Sweetie," she said, "You haven't touched your food, is something wrong?"
Danny glanced down at the turkey meat drizzled with gravy sitting on his plate. "I'm not hungry," he murmured.
"Everyone's hungry on Thanksgiving!" Jack remarked, scooping a large spoonful of stuffing onto his plate. "Are you sure you're okay, son?"
Danny nodded.
"Why don't you have a little bit of turkey, and then you can be excused," Maddie offered, scooping the mashed potatoes, stuffing, and peas off her son's plate. The little boy paled slightly, his eyes growing round.
"But...The turkey wouldn't like that," he whispered to himself. Nevertheless, he speared a small piece of meat with his fork and timidly bit into it.
That night, Danny sat in the darkness of his room, clutching his bed sheets. A silvery turkey was perched upon his windowsill, the moon illuminating its ethereal feathers. Danny watched it with wide blue eyes; he did not make a sound.
He did not even scream when the ghostly bird turned its head and looked at him with is beady, crimson eyes…
Thanks for reading! Now I need to get back to tracking down my backup files...
R&R!! ...And have a great holiday!