“Well, its cold and snowing outside, as it should be on Christmas Day, but we’re all snug in here” announced Tommy’s mother. Tommy winced.
As she opened the door to show them all the blizzard raging outside, Tommy willed himself to get up and walk through the door, and go anywhere but here. As usual, his legs refused to obey.
“Hot chocolate”, his mother smiled, “specially for Christmas”. Tommy’s stomache turned over at the sight of the curdled milky drink, but he knew that what came later was much worse.
An interlude of boredom loomed, wherin Tommy unwrapped his Christmas presents, staring for the hundredth time at the same book and the same dvd, why hadn’t anyone had the foresight to buy him some food?
The chocolates he was able to eat each day did nothing to alleviate his hunger, and he had lost quite a bit of weight on this diet. In the background, the radio churned out the same old Christmas songs, which were beginning to drive Tommy crazy.
Then the finale of the day, the big meal, none of which Tommy could eat any more, and which he had tried on numerous occasions to avoid, but he found himself as ever sitting between his brother and sister at the gaily decorated table, as his father triumphantly carried out the huge turkey.
The smell was horrendous, between the turkey and the rotting vegetables.
As the platter was lowered, hundreds of maggots fell onto the table wriggling. Tommy closed his eyes and wished as hard as he could, but his original Christmas eve wish appeared binding.
As Tommy began to cry again, the radio started playing “wellll, I wish it could be Christmas everyday”.
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Credits to: BECKYISHERE
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