My father was obsessed with McDonald's. He couldn't live without it. He didn't eat in any fast food. No Burger King, no Wendy's... It must have been Mcdonald's. He was getting to the point where he had to eat something from Mcdonald's at least once a day.
Sometimes, at breakfast, he went out for a sausage and a McMuffin egg. For lunch, he takes a McChicken sandwich or a double bacon cheeseburger. His favorite meal was a Big Mac and fries.
He enjoyed the food, but the rest of the family soon got tired of it. After a while, my mother, my sister and I could not stand it anymore. We could not stand watching another chicken McNuggets.
Gradually, we started trying to avoid eating at McDonald's with him. When he realized what we were doing, it really irritated him. He acted as if we had betrayed him by not liking McDonald's.
"What's wrong?" He asked one day. "Why don't you come to McDonald's, because you do not want to eat with me?"
My mother looked down and my sister pretended she did not hear him.
"It's not that daddy" I explained awkwardly. "It's just that we don't want to eat at McDonald's anymore..."
He stared at us for a moment, then shook his head sadly and left. Twenty minutes later, he came back with a Double Quarter Pounder with Cheese and ate it alone in the living room. He spent the rest of the evening sulking and glaring at us.
One evening, after finishing my homework and watching TV, I decided to go to bed. My little sister was fast asleep at the top of the bunk bed. I turned off the light in the bedroom and slid gently into the lower bunk, taking care not to wake her.
Some time later, I heard the door of our room open. Plunging into the corridor light, I could see a silhouette standing on the doorstep. I blinked in surprise. It was Ronald McDonald. He stood right there, silently watching us. He didn't seem to know that I was awake.
I heard my sister scream as the bed began to shake violently. Suddenly, something fell from the top bunk and hit the bottom desk, knocking him over and scattering pens and notebooks on the floor.
From the door I heard my mother's voice screaming in fear, "What the hell are you doing?"
Ronald McDonald rushed and turned on the light. At that moment, I realized it was just my father dressed in a Ronald McDonald suit.
I rubbed my eyes and looked around. Under the overturned desk, I saw some of my sister's pink pajamas springing up. A pool of blood was forming all around. My mother started screaming hysterically and my dad stayed there in shock.
The ambulance arrived a few minutes later and the paramedics rushed. They looked at my father in amazement and my father, in his excitement, hit one of them in the face. It was absolute chaos.
My mother didn't stop shouting, "No, no, stay home!" But my father pushed her aside and rushed to the back of the ambulance with my sister. Our neighbors were all standing in their gardens and watching us, stunned.
They couldn't do much for my sister at the hospital. She had been injured in the spine and the fall of the brain. When the doctors finally let her go home, she lay on the bed, eyes wide open, teeth clenched and loose, arms and legs shaking uncontrollably.
Before the accident, my sister was so nice and pretty, but now she was completely changed. She couldn't speak. All she could do was moan "Nnnnmph, nnnnmmmm, nnnhmmmmm, daaaaghhhdyyyyyyyy"
When my mom asked my dad why he did it, he said it was to make us more like McDonald's.
My mother cried. I said nothing. My dad kept nibbling his Big Mac.
