Little Gifts {for Shine_on's contest}

The table was set and my relatives gathered round the draped lace cloth that was laid on top of our serving table. My sister(Jessica) were in the kitchen cooking our seasoned turkey. My juvenile brother(Max) was in the process of being dressed by my mother. And my dad, well, I don't have a dad. Anymore anyway.
Last Christmas he sacrificed his life to save my mother from a approaching bus. I haven't experience a shred of happiness since then.

"MACEY!" my sister Jessica yelled. I slid out of my seat and stepped into the kitchen slowly. "You're pathetic", I said quietly after only one look at the disaster she concocted. As you probably guessed, she burnt the frigging turkey.

"Turkeys don't come too cheap, and I don't have by bicycle to go to the shops. Max drove it into the stream down by the park".
"Good luck with that" I said sarcastically.
"Oh no Macey. You fυcked it up this time"
"Please don't use unpleasant language. And what do you mean I messed it up? YOU'RE the one who cooked the darn thing."
"You little snop. You know you're the better cook and this ALL wouldn't of happened if dad was still here".
"That doesn't make any sense. If dad was here, you would still most likely of burnt that turkey. And what the heck is a snop?".

After those two sentences, I received no reply. What confuses me the most, is that she called me in just to hear her rant about bicycles, turkeys and whatever the heck a snop is.

I ran up the wooden polished steps of our home and ran into my bedroom. I like to think of it as a forbidden zone for anyone with generic or closed mines. Anyone who enters should be free of cruel society. I opened up my computer. I tapped on the mouse and clicked on Internet Explorer.

'Snop' I searched. The first result was a dictionary definition. "/Snop/ - A arrogant, inconsiderate or intemperate human/creature/herb". I was surprised at first unpleasant to results were. Then I started to wonder how a herb could be arrogant.

But I grasped what my sister was informing me about. I must of been inconsiderate if my sister resulted in using words such as 'snop'...
That and all I judged from our conversation was he word 'snop'.

I got my cyan notepad out and started writing.

---
One hour later
---

I grabbed my woven basket and head down the steps. "Macey dear, have a sit down" my grandmother said from across the room. I rested the basket beside me as I sat down and got ready to enjoy the side dishes my sister had prepared. I looked over to my sisters direction. She was scowling bitterly. Beside her was Max, who was savagely eating garlic bread and ruining his 'nice' shirt.

Apart from the turkey the food was amazing. The mashed potatoes was a delight to eat. It was just hot, creamy and fluffy. It was just like eating the pockets of air in cream. Her corn was buttery and had the essence of great spices. We had many other side dishes but temptation was hauling me to the macaroni and cheeses. The texture was begging me to eat more. The cheese was addicting and it was a perfect natural orange. I tried shoveling down the last couple of side dishes but I fell tired. With delectable group of side dishes like those, why did my sister believe I was the better cook?

I rested and chat with my relatives until we had dessert. Pumpkin pie. It was lovely, but nothing compared to the dishes beforehand.

I glanced at my basket and remembered my purpose for coming down stairs. I tapped my glass of look-alike scotch(apple juice) and called "Attention!" repeatedly.
"I've prepared a little gift for each and everyone of you. I hope you enjoy!". I handed out the scrolls I had prepared. Each of the scrolls was marked with a coloured ribbon to indicate which
scroll went to which person.

Then one of the greatest things ever happened. As each person opened their scroll, their faces lit up with thanks, gratefulness, thankfulness and recognition. The sight made me feel complete.
Each scroll contained a poem. One to always remember. But speacially, I made my sister one.

As she opened it, her bitterness melted into a understanding of false impressions. Maybe even satisfaction.

On that note, I wrote

/"Streams flow fast
I don't judge if you can't keep up
But you can dip your feet
Every once in a little while"/

I created this poem as a combination of everything she enjoys.
Water, The Killers and calming terminology.

And for once, the essence of happiness came back to me. It was going to be a long road, but I made a start.


FIN