Christmas dinner
As the snow fell outside, I couldn’t help but wonder how this Christmas would turn out. I hated Christmas. I didn’t get why everyone said it was their favourite time of the year. Every single Christmas was the same as the last. In short, Christmas was one of the most boring days of my life, and I was pretty happy when it was over. Walking down the stairs, I couldn’t help but admire the beautiful decorations, done by yours truly. The rest of my family were too lazy too even do anything. I’d always try and complain about it, but they all just ignored me. They always ignored me. I entered the dining room, just in time to see my mum, dad and little sister already sitting at the table. I sigh, and join them. A long period of awkward silence ensues, as I pick at my food, suddenly feeling nauseous. We all just stared at each other, not knowing what to say. Finally I decided I had had enough, and, excusing myself, I go back to my room. This Christmas was just as boring and as sad as the rest. As I sat on my bed, I stare out of my window. I’d always wondered how my family felt about Christmas. Well, I guess I’ll never know. I had tried to ask them, but they never answered me. Puppets aren’t the best at communicating, after all.