Young Writers Society

Note: As mentioned this is a third draft, so it will have such errors. I just wanted to know if you think this is worth continuing, and editing. 

''We're almost home!'' Mother exclaimed joyously as we pulled up on the drive way that led to our errie mansion. Poor mom. If she seriously thought being all happy when arriving home would help our attitude towards that death trap then she was dumber then I thought. The thing is the prospect of our so called home didn't have the happy effect. In our car seats we groaned as a feeling dread came over us. At least I did. My brother James had his neutral face on. My sisters Ava, and Diva didn't look happy but tried to smile. I turned my gaze away from them and examined the car. The Ingrid family vehicile looked spotless. Every inch of that bristly tan carpet neatly vaccumed. The leather on the doors and seats well polished. The thing could seat 10 people and had five rows of seats, all of them leather. If you asked me they looked more like a coffen then a seat. None of us were allowed to scartch or touch a thing on that car. Anyway fancy car or no we were not happy to be home. Me especially. I let out a huge sigh. ''Oh come on Rex, at least act joyful! It's Christmas Eve!'' Mom told me, fingering her long silky blond hair. Either my mom was a hopeless optimist or she didn't know that would never happen. Not with us. Christmas is more like torture then a celebration. I thought looking out the window. Everything didn't read holiday cheer. No snow lay on the ground. No wind blew through the oak trees that surrounded the neighborhood. The leaves themselves were dull and lifeless. I couldn't spot any christmas lights, nor did I hear the sounds of singing. Not a car on the town was to be seen. Everything seemed errily still and lifeless. The sky was a dull grey. We finally pulled up to our Victorian style mansion. Our house looked something like a castle with it's tall pillars and spirals all elaboratly designed. Silence surrounded it. Silence filled with a millions sour words, and a storm of bitter emotion. Home. Ha ha ha. That's some joke. I thought. This place felt like prison, though it had a large lawn full of grass. And a concrete pathway leading to the screen door. We stepped out of our car not speaking to each other. I must admit, my family looked picture perfect. Dad had a tall stature a lean musular build, with slick well brushed brown hair. His cheeks were lean and he had laughing blue eyes. Mom looked stunning as well. She had the lovliest hair, thick lush silky and light, almost gold blond, and a slender build. My brother was dad's spitting image, my sisters however were quite a different story. They had dad's hair color and blue eyes, but their build and face resembeled moms. Me? Ha! I'm the odd ball. I have long hair that's blond, my eyes are green, and my build doesn't match either mom nor dad. I am not lean nor slender. In fact I'm rather short and somewhat chubby. ''Rex would you please be our Turky Bearer this year?'' My dad asked banging the car door shut. Oh that. We Ingrids have a tradition . . .of sorts. Every year a person is chosen for the honor of carriying the turky. Mom decided to make it tradition in the hope it would unify us. Poor mom! The so called tradition caused even more disputes. In the end only the losers carried the Turky and yes that loser was always me. Anyway today I didn't feel like being a loser.

''Why can't Ava carry the Turky!'' I argued. ''Why am I always the one to carry that thing in to the house?''

''You know why!'' Dad answered. I felt shocked at the ice in his voice. Man, and I thought the snow was chilly! ''The girls aren't as strong as you and your brother.''

I huffed.

''Then why can't James be the Turky Bearer?''

Dad looked like he would have exploded. Thankfully mom sensed the tention between us, before it esculated.

''Dan, maybe you should go inside. I'll deal with Rex.'' She pleaded. Deal with Rex. I love the way she said that. Like I'm some dog! I thought. Dad nodded and stalked of into the house slamming the door shut. Mom turned to me her eyes wide with distress. Here we go . . .I sighed.

''Why don't you wan't to be the Turky Bearer? Is something wrong honey?'' She asked hugging me. ''Don't you like being our Turky Bearer?''

''Do I like eating pickles, or taking pills?'' I answered sarcastically. To me this was a no brainer. But mom still looked confused. Okay, I thought with a sigh.  I'd have to use language this crazy family understood.

''I hate transporting turky!'' I yelled kicking the leaves with my snow boots, and stamping on the concrete walk way like a maniac. Is that clear enough? I thought glaring at mom. That better be.

''You'd better quit this behavior right now. For heaven's sake it's just a turky!'' Mom exclaimed, in a I'm not dealing with you right know voice. I huffed again, and opened the trunk in the car. The animal that had caused so much fuss, was a small 8 pound turky. Defiently I picked it up and carried it indoors. The interior of our house looked like a palace. The walls pure milky white, the chairs elaborately designed with swirly pillers for the legs and red velvet couchions for a seat. Over in the dining room stood a table that had again those pillars for legs. The top was designed like one of those fancy aztec suns you know a circle with twelve of wavy points? All of the wood was red staind. Slowly I walked into the kitchen. Yep. That part of the house was just as fancy as the dining room. The counters were Red marble, and the floor tiles were green and white checker pattern. To top it all off I could hear mom and dad arguing about me. Hurray. What fun! 

''Dan!'' Mom sounded like a tiger. ''Wouldn't it be fatherly to give someone else a turn with that turky? You don't need to be so cold to him. He's your son!''

''Clowe, that kid is not my son! He is rude, impudent and my God, he can't even carry a 8 pound turky in the house with out complaining!'' Dad yelled.

''Your his father! You can't ignore him!'' Mother argued furious tears in her eyes. I felt sick as I opened the freezer and placed the turkey onto the rack that had been reserved for it. I knew they were talking about me. How they could ruin our Christmas every year like that? I felt a large hole grow in my heart it hurt like crazy. Why . . .? I wondered. Tears threatened to stream down my face. Every Christmas James and I would pray that God would do some mircal that would change them. But we had been doing this for 20 years. No luck. I stalked out of the kitchen and into the living room. Green velvet carpet (Yes, we Ingrids are fond of velvet and silk) and three red couches with couchions made of silk greeted me. I collapsed onto a couch. Sure didn't feel like putting away groceries. I just strolked the coushions. I loved how they felt like satin to my hands.

''Rex!'' mom called. Well she might! With a huge sigh I removed myself from the couch and walked back into the kitchen.

''There you are.'' She scolded smoothing her blue dress and priming her hair. ''Could you please put those apples away? I don't want to get the moisture on my dress. I have work in a few minutes.'' Oh I forgot to mention mom's a model for catalouge company called Supreme Buys. (She a top model in fact) But she didn't need to fuss about a little moisture on her cloths.But that was mom for you. However I nodded and grabbed the bag of apples and put them into the fridge drawer. Mother glanced at her watch. ''Time for work.'' She stooped down and hugged me kissing me on the forhead. ''Good-bye sweetie, love you!'' She then looked at dad.

''How do I look Dan?'' She asked swishing her hair.

''Fabolous!'' He grinned. Mom twirled blew him a kiss and strutted out the door. Yeah, strutted like she was the queen of may.

A silence settled over the house for a few secants. Then dad bellowed

''Well everyone! Get moving! We have a Christmas dinner to prepare!'' Christmas was twelve days away. You see our family liked to prepare for the holidays early. I didn't want to cook any part of Christmas dinner. What would be the use? I turned away and gazed out the kictchen window.

''Son?'' Their was something cold about the way dad said that single word. I knew he was standing by the kitchen counter shaking his head at me. I could just see it. ''Are you going to help?''

I kept my mouth shut.

''Rex!'' Their was warning in his voice. ''Answer me''

''No. I will not be helping with Chrismas dinner'' I said announciating each word slowly. Dad was talking to me alright but the scorn and rejection in his voice was so obvious. What a great family to be a part of! Makes you feel real loved!

''Why not?'' He challenged.

''Are you that dumb?'' I scoffed with equal coldness to my voice. Dad didn't respond.

''What would be the use? Christmas is weeks away. And with this family on the job it's bound to be a mess.'' I explained.

It seemed that's all their was to be said. I stalked out of the kitchen and went back to that couch. Maybe I could get some homework done or something while the rest of Ingrid and CO made a fool of themselves.