Gobble Gobble

I can't believe I got sick on Turkey Day. A headache formed yesterday around the time I went to bed. When I woke up, somehow I felt...different. Feathers were all over my pillows, tossed that aside because feathers lined my pillows anyway, so it must've come undone in my sleep. I nearly fell out of my bed. My bed was peculiar too. It looked taller than I normally remembered. Strange...everything felt bigger. Or was I smaller?

The doorknob was out of my reach. Why can't I stretch my fingers? Why are they all pudgy? I jumped until miraculously, the doorknob turned. Before I left, I noticed my pajamas in a pile by my bed. Whatever the case, my fears overruled my judgments and I advanced down the stairs. My legs felt smaller and awkward. I was in such a state of disarray, I found myself plummeting down the stairs, alerting my parents and sister.

They were in the kitchen getting ready for the big day. I ran into the kitchen and screamed in a loud voice "Help! Help! Something's wrong with me!"

They looked at me with odd glares. I screamed again, but a garbled sound rang out of my mouth. What was wrong with them? Why couldn't they understand what I was saying? My pleas only agitated them more with my Dad ordering my sister to hold me down. I tried to shriek in protest, but more bizarre drones escaped my strained lips. My Dad came at me with the butcher knife. As he drove the knife into my side, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the knife. It was Turkey Day after all, and I was the main course.