Be Thankful

Hey y’all! Don’t beat me up I know I skipped out on you guys last week but don’t worry I’m back with ANOTHER post! Soooo…I have another FICTIONAL short story for you all since I received great feedback from the short story I wrote last week! I don’t know I guess I just really enjoy putting my imagination in writing and showing the world how I think. But enough of that let us get on to the story shall we ! Enjoy!!!

The air was crisp and the night sky begins to reveal itself at an earlier time. It’s fall I know it. I also know from the looks of all the cheesy decorations around here, Thanksgiving is slowly creeping its way around the corner. Thanksgiving falls on a Thursday every year right? I’ve been in this god forsaken place for about 10 years now and I have no clue of which day of the week it is anymore..and I have no care to learn.

Thanksgiving. Whenever my mind draws itself to that faithful day my heart beats at a remarkable pace and goosebumps begin to trail up my arms. If I can recollect correctly it was a day like today. I was 17 years old at the time. Everyone was bundled up, noses red, and the autumn leaves were falling. I was standing on the front step while my family proceeded to scurry about among the kitchen like mice. They didn’t even seem to notice my existence…nobody wondered where I was or what trouble I could be potentially getting myself into. I don’t know why I’m surprised.. they always do this to me. I never really feel like I am part of my family. “Be Thankful” , I read the glittered phrase to myself that was intricately placed on our doormat. I scoffed. Thankful of what exactly? Every single day of my life I am emotionally and physically abused by the retched people that I have the “luxury” of calling my family. Thanksgiving just makes me sick to the core because everyone parades around like they give a damn about family, when in reality it is the family whom thrives on your downfall. Who leaps at the opportunity to say negative things about you once you step out of the room. I refuse to be thankful for a group of gossipers who couldn’t care less if I were alive or dead.

Still outdoors, now in the middle of the street, I stood and watched what was left of my home burst into flames with everyone still scurrying inside like the disgusting devil rats they were. I remember hearing the sounds of sirens in the distance. I decided not to run, but to stay. The flames were so captivating to watch, with their colors of red and orange filling the night sky. I couldn’t run from that, it was the only moment where I felt true happiness.

My trip down memory lane was suddenly disturbed by the big men in white jackets sliding my tray of food through the slot of my padded room door. Once, I discovered what was on my plate, I quickly threw it across the room. Ugh stuffing, that was mother’s specialty…

How’d you like this week’s post? If you guys haven’t noticed already I’m really into writing mystery and suspense (borderline horror) stories lol. Oh, and just to clear the air… I DO NOT feel this way towards my family.. I love them to death! This is merely a fictional story that I made up. Hey and if you liked the story give it a share I want to hear feedback from EVERYONE! Remember, don’t forget to Like, Comment, and Subscribe…KAY’S OUT! (P.S. HAVE A WONDERFUL THANKSGIVING EVERYONE!)

One Comment Add yours

  1. Tyrone says:

    You should write a book

    Liked by 1 person

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