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Prose Challenge of the Week #50 : With Thanksgiving around the corner, write about a conversation around the table where a family secret is unfurled. The winner will be chosen based on a number of criteria, this includes: fire, form, and creative edge. Number of reads, bookmarks, and shares will also be taken into consideration. The winner will receive $100 and the runner-up will receive 1000 coins. When sharing to social media, please use the hashtags #itslit #getlit #ProseChallenge
Cover image for post Thanksgiving secret, by Tyla
Profile avatar image for Tyla
Tyla
182 reads

Thanksgiving secret

I bit my nails

I quivered at my uncle presence

He glanced in my direction

he stole glances at the red dress I was in

He pulled my chair

as I slipped into the chair 

he rubbed my leg

my smile turned to a frown

My mom turned to me and asked me what was wrong

He dug his nails into my leg

and made me squirm

he smiled his pearly white smile

and his saliva trickled into my ear as he whispered

if you tell you´ll ruin the family

I  smiled  and I replied ¨ I just wish Aunt kate was here¨

mom replied me too and grabbed my hand

and  I let her just like I let my uncle grab my virginity 

but I couldn't dare open my mouth .

My eyes glazed over the turkey stuffed with stuffing

I almost dropped to tears

it reminds me of my body how it was stuffed with all these secrets

the corn bread pudding reminds me of how I was just a pudding of emotions unable to open my mouth.

The greens remind of how I took showers at night to scrub away the memory of him being in me.

The marshmallows on the sweet potatoes remind me  of what he left on the sheets. 

The apple pie reminds me of how he curled my hair around his finger and said to me your such a sweet girl and because you're a sweet girl you won't tell your mommy and the crinkling sound of  foil paper being torn off sounds like his cackling laugh after time he left me bruised.

I bite into the turkey like I was biting into his brains 

I drunk the juice from the greens like it was his blood

I shoved the pudding into my mouth like I was shoving a poison into his mouth

I grabbed the marshmallows off the sweet potatoes like it was a knife

I took a spoonful of apple pie and glared at him and flung the knife  at his face

and said Who is a little sweet girl now.

I took my way out and killed him

I bit into his brains

and got drunk off his blood 

just like he did mind 

I shoved the same liquor bottle in his mouth that he drugged me with

I grabbed the knife

and flung at his chest.

Mom, you will never understand that the man I have murder 

was not a casualty but a victory to me  

I don ´t think you are brave enough to know why .

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