DinnertimeA Story by Frankie
To eat it or not to eat it... that is the question.
My stomach churned. My heart froze. Tension built in the air.
I stared at... it with all the hatred I could gather, my steady gaze fixed and unwavering. The whole world seemed blanked out and distant; it was only me and the thing now. We were alone.
It was revolting. The dead, mould-coloured tendrils were flat and lifeless, like a pulverised moss-covered tree. All over it’s slimy body were tiny, green blobs that crept over it, sticking out. It looked like an old bush that someone had half-chewed, stuck in the washing machine and shrunk.
D’you want to know what it was?
Well, I can tell you.
All the disgusting, revolting things the world could muster compacted into a thing that looked the colour of algae. How anybody could even consider it to be edible is beyond me. Maybe I’m just the only normal one.
I sighed forlornly at this thought, breaking the silence that hung over the dinner table. My mind slowly travelled back to the present. My dad jumped, as if waking up from a dream, and said sternly, “Hazel, eat your greens.”
I groaned and started pushing the broccoli round my empty plate with a fork. “Why do I have to?” I moaned. I could hear my stomach protesting. “I don’t like broccoli.”
“So?” he said. “You never eat it. When was the last time you ever had broccoli?”
When I didn’t respond, he continued. “My point exactly. Well, now’s the time to try it.” He urged.
“Come on, Hazel,” my mum piped in. “It can’t be that bad.”
I snorted. “Well, you, Dad and Fiona like it. So it must be.”
Fiona scoffed. “Yeah, so if we all like it, that makes you the weird one.”
“Fiona, stay out of it! This is a big thing for Hazel.” Mum scolded.
Fiona just rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, pouting. “Even Benny likes it...” she muttered to herself. I looked over to where my two-year old brother was sat in his highchair, gargling and giggling and stuffing broccoli down his throat with a plastic spoon. Proud of his empty plate, he gave Mum a toothless grin, revealing bits of mashed broccoli in his mouth.
“Eww!” I grimaced.
“Well done, Benny! You’ve got a clean plate!” she cooed, and Dad and Fiona joined in. I did the perfect imitation of Fiona’s signature eye-roll. “I didn’t even have to do ‘here comes the aeroplane!” Mum continued. Benny snickered, pointing at my plate.
“Yes, Hazel.” Dad said. “Your brother’s setting a good example.”
“What?” I protested. “He’s like two!”
Benny stuck his tongue out at me.
“Yes. That’s what makes it funny.” Fiona pointed out.
“Just eat it, darling.” Mum said.
“Fine! Just, fine!” I snapped, pulling my plate towards me and poising my fork above the broccoli. Time slowed down, and I paused, contemplating. ‘Come on!’ the broccoli coaxed. ‘Do it!’
So I did.
My family cheered.
And you know what?
I quite liked it.
© 2012 Frankie
Derbyshire, United Kingdom
AboutI love writing. So much in fact that my friends all think I'm weird because I actually enjoy writing in my FREE time, and don't see it as work. Most of the time. Being different? I relish in the th.. more..