Forlot: The Thanksgiving Horror - Book Fourteen

Chapter Two

You know that feeling that you get when Christmas, your birthday, or a special occasion is upon you? That is exactly how I was feeling this very day.

I was alone in the kitchen. A November calendar was hanging on the fridge, and I circled a particular date with a black marker.

"Ah. Friday," I said. "And not just any Friday."

As I said that, my mom walked in. She was in her pink dress that reached to her knees and had white shoes on her feet. Her brown hair was tied back in a bun.

"Let me guess, Steven," she spoke. "Black Friday."

"Yep!" I clapped my hands quickly. "I cannot wait until the end of this week." I set the black marker on the kitchen counter and scooped up some ads. More precisely, Black Friday ads.

Like every year, Mom was not thrilled. "Goodness. Are those all for Black Friday?"

"They most certainly are. I have been collecting them since the beginning of November. And do not worry about me spending much. I have plenty of coupons."

She sighed and massaged her temples. "Steven, you have an obsession."

"No, I do not, Mom. If I did, I would have started the collection at the beginning of the year."

"That is not what I..." She paused and continued. "Steven, we have this conversation every year. Do not make me repeat myself."

It took me a few seconds to realize what she was referring to. I narrowed my eyebrows, feeling a bit annoyed. I should explain the situation to you readers.

Every Thanksgiving, Mom and I argued over Black Friday and...well, Thanksgiving. Mom is extremely religious and only lets me read and watch stuff that has to do with the Lord and Jesus Christ. That is pretty ironic because she claims that our Lord wants us to have fun. So why does she keep me from having fun, like making art or playing games?

As you might have guessed, I was the complete opposite. I did not take my mother seriously and even confessed to her that I was an atheist. Of course, Mom was devastated and kept telling herself that she failed me.

For a while, I thought that she was a failure. But this Thanksgiving, I came to the realization that it was me and my stubbornness.

It should not come as to a surprise you now readers that my mom and I had a terrible relationship. We were not close and only grew farther and farther. She left me alone, and I left her alone. We were acting like strangers in our own home!

You might be wondering where my dad was. Last time that Mom and I saw him, he was working at a camp. Neither of us had heard from him since.

I know that I said that I loved Black Friday, but I would not be honest with you if I did not admit that I also hated this time of year. And no, it had nothing to do with the crowds on Black Friday.

It was my hatred for Thanksgiving.

If you asked my past self, I would have wanted - no, demanded - that Thanksgiving should be banned. It is a useless holiday and should be replaced with Black Friday as the official holiday.

I had told the same thing to my mother. Her response? She slapped my face.

"I should wash your mouth with soap, Steven! Then again, I would not want you to get sick."

What made it worse was the fact that Thanksgiving is her favorite holiday. She thinks that it is better than Christmas!

Seriously, Mom? How do you think that a stupid day of thanks is better than a day with so much more? You receive presents on Christmas! Thanksgiving does nothing for anyone.

"It is okay, Mom," I reassured her. "No need to remind me. I have heard it so many times that my ears are about to burst."

"Good...I guess," she replied. She grabbed her white apron and put it on. I heard her mumble, "He is an ungrateful kid."

Now I was angry.

"I am not a kid anymore, Mom. I am sixteen years old. And do not call me ungrateful. I help you around the house. I cook. I clean. You name it!"

My mom grabbed the broom and sniffed. Tears streamed down her cheeks.

"I do not understand...why you cannot be thankful," she stated. "At least...this time of year."

"What should I be thankful for? Why should I even be thankful? Even after Dad not returning home?"

"Are you kidding me? You have so much to be thankful for. God has gone beyond your needs."

"Oh, really? And God does not exist."

She choked on her tears and sniffed again. "You...you have a roof over your head. Food on the table."

I glanced at the kitchen table. "There is no food on the table."

"There will be once I whip up breakfast. Back to your thankful list. You go to a school that teaches you creativity. You are surrounded by people who love you. I...love you."

"You do not love me. If you did, you would not shove your stupid beliefs down my throat."

"My beliefs are not stupid. They are the truth."

I shook my head with a sad look plastered on my face. "You are delusional."

"And you are blinded, Steven. I hope one day that you will see the truth."

"Maybe when Thanksgiving is illegal."

I must have taken it too far - and I did - because Mom could not hold in the waterworks and cried. She threw down the broom and hurried out of the kitchen. I heard her footsteps going up the stairs and a door being slammed.

I felt bad, but tried to shrug off the guilt. I picked up my backpack and headed out the door. I was not even off the property when I stepped in something. Red stuff.

Blood.