The tender smell of turkey was rising in our house I wassitting watching television. I loved Christ

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The tender smell of turkey was rising in our house I was sitting watching television. I loved Christmas; the presents, turkey and the time spent with my family. Year after year, it was the same, up until Christmas Eve four years ago when the phone rang. This one phone call made the tender smell of turkey turn into the hateful smell of revenge.

My auntie had rung to say my uncle had been murdered. I could see my dads face turn from a golden brown to a pale ivory. At first, when I was told, I went numb, not knowing whether to cry o mad. The feeling that I felt could not come near to the hatred I felt after the funeral. A funeral, why have a funeral for someone who had hardly lived. I never cried when I found out; it was still so surreal. It was at the funeral when I saw this wooden box holding within it the man who made me laugh that it all came back. After that, I could not stop crying for days.

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I remember when I was younger, my uncle used to take me to the park and push me on the swings, cello tape my hands and legs together, being bridesmaid at his wedding. At the wedding, I wore a pink frilly dress with matching Saturn shoes. My hair was in curls and my uncle was so handsome that he put Brad Pitt to shame. Once they said ‘I do’ my uncle’s smile was so big it looked like he was in heaven. Knowing that I would never see him smile again made it even harder to bear.

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