David was thankful for his mother’s green bean casserole. He never had enjoyed it, yet his mother would beam whenever he ate it. Although she was now gone, there was still a part of her in the casserole this Thanksgiving.
David was thankful for his father’s protective nature and firm commitment to his children. His father was his emotional support, his shield from danger. Without him, David would have never survived all of his mental breakdowns, not those in the past, not the one now. He appreciated his dad for acting first when David needed to act last.
David had planned to break up with Joyce before Christmas to save himself from another awkward holiday and an unnecessary purchase. Her dumb, docile nature no longer excited him, yet, this Thanksgiving, he gave thanks for her unwavering devotion to him. She held him when he had wanted to run away.
Swallowing the lump in his throat, David gave thanks to his younger brother, Danny, the idiot wannabe occultist. Twenty years-old and still living at home, Danny never knew when to take things seriously. He had used the decorative candles for his “Thanksgiving séance” and had carved crude symbols into the turkey. David seethed thinking about his brother’s actions, yet he breathed deeply, thinking how grateful he was for Danny’s “antics.” He had to be.
David was thankful he was alive. As the demon lounged on the dining room table, David sat rigidly and expressed thanks for all he had. Half of Joyce lay across his lap. His father’s torso rested under the demon’s elbow. His mother was everywhere, and Danny’s head lolled in the demon’s hand. The demon pecked at his brother’s cheek as it stared at David.
When David had grown breathless from expressing his gratefulness, the demon laughed at him. Unlike his family, did David accept the monster’s presence? When others had fled and fought, was David willing to give thanks for witnessing such a wonder, for earning its mercy?
David bent his head toward the table in gratitude. The demon rose to its stubby legs, folds of skin hanging from its shriveled wings. A claw swiped across David’s face, taking with it a token of his thankfulness. Fire then overtook the demon, erupting into a black smoke and triggering the fire alarm. When the smoke had dissipated, the charred turkey lay in the demon’s place.
David was thankful it had not taken more, and he cried as blood filled his mouth from where his tongue used to be. As he heard the sirens in the distance, he gave thanks he had an excuse to never speak of this Thanksgiving ever again.