Thanksgiving Narrative

"The dog fell off a cliff and landed in the lake, but he's okay." I swear the dog gave me a dirty look. From my place in the back seat I could see Dad looking at me in the rearview mirror; his eyes told me he knew there was more, but he never asked.

The leaves were brown and the weather was cold, but not unbearably cold. The morning had just started and the sun was barely out. I was eight years old at the time and it was Thanksgiving Day, and on top of the various assortment of food, my family and I had relatives coming to our house to partake in this Thanksgiving feast. My mother had gotten numerous amounts of groceries from the store throughout the week, including potatoes, green beans, cranberry sauce, mix for stuffing, a humongous ham, and to top it if we had the staple for every Thanksgiving, a turkey. I could already smell the scent of a honey baked ham in the oven as I got out of bed and started my day in the bathroom.

Thanksgiving is a week away that's about the only thing on my mind, my dad's mind, my mom's mind, everyone’s mind. Plus my dad just got back home from doing five years in prison, so yea it was something to look forward to, sitting at the table as a complete family again. Anyway we had just picked my dad up from work, that night we ate steak and potatoes, my favorite! It was a school night I had just gotten my school clothes ready and was headed to take my shower. I stopped in my parent’s room, because I saw my dad up getting dressed to go out that night. We talked for a minute or two then he told me goodnight he'll be back, so I continued to do what I was doing. I really had no idea this would be the last time I saw my dad. Around 7 a.m. the

Thanksgiving is a wonderful holiday in October where you surround yourself with your loved ones; as well as eat enough food to hibernate all winter. However, Thanksgiving of 2003 was not what I expected. Around eleven in the morning my family and I arrived at my cousin Jessica’s house. I expected everyone there to be in a good mood; well I was wrong.

The whole 405 crew was meeting up with some guys from Texas. Everyone decided to bring something to eat as it was thanksgiving. Everybody brought their families and the cooking began. While they waited for the meal to be done they raced. Things got a little bit heated in the races but it was all okay.

“He’s mine and I’ll do what I want to with him. Shut the hell up and mind your own damned business,” he yelled getting in the truck and sped down the road. Within a mile, Bill saw the same truck, the dog was hanging over the side, he honked his horn and motioned for the driver to stop, but he continued. Bill pulled closer and yelled for him to stop at once, the driver ignored him, but he finally pulled to the side of the road.

The day after Thanksgiving my family had a reunion for my grandmother on a boat because

“Skylar, come on! The truck is about to leave!” my mom shouted as she walked outside to the U-haul truck containing precious memories of the past thirteen years of my life. “Alright, mom!” I aggressively shouted back to her, knowing full well she would not appreciate my tone. Despite my resistance towards the events of the day, I trudged out of my bare room with the last of my Vera Bradley luggage and loaded up the truck.

Rather than going home I decided to drive around for a little bit. Before long I found myself nearing Avery and Luke’s street. When I turned the corner I noticed right away that Luke’s pickup wasn’t parked in the driveway and Avery’s little Mini Cooper was the only vehicle there. I put my pickup in

“Ok, we’ll take the dog; we just have to hide him from Mommy,” the dad said.

It was a very dark night. Matt was out hunting as usual. He had been gone for a while so he decided to go home. He called for his dog, Bo, but he didn’t come. Matt wasn’t surprised, Bo usually waits for matt to come get him. He turned on his flashlight and started to try to find Bo.

Friday arrived, and Cindy was approaching the spot where the dog would always bark at her. That specific morning there was no dog which meant that there wasn’t going to be any more things scaring her again. She was relieved. “Ah, finally the dog is finally go-“

Mr. Barkley the dog had a very important decision to make. Today was the day, the day that he had to hire someone new to the office. The role of the job was extremely important, and required a lot of skill. That’s when the door to the meeting room opened.

“No … get the money… just…” Dad caught my eye, and gave me a look that made me turn around again.

I looked out the small, glass window of the car. It was July of 2015, and I was about eleven years old. My family and I were in Minnesota, and on our way to Itasca State park. This is where the beginning of the Mississippi is located.On our way there, I saw big, green trees. The sky was a baby blue, and the clouds were big, white , and fluffy as cotton balls. The bright, yellow sun was shining through the fluffy clouds. Finally! The car stopped. And I asked, “Are we here?” The driver responded by saying, “Yes we are.” I started to smile. I flung the door open, and hopped out of the car.