Thanksgiving at 13 Street
Nallely, Age 12, USA

One lovely Thanksgiving morning my grandmother was preparing a chubby twenty pound butterball turkey for my mother’s guests. As the morning sun heated up our thawing neighborhood, the entire street remained peaceful. That is, all of the houses were peaceful except mine.

“You have to hurry up!! The turkey needs to be cooked by 3:00 p.m., or else we’re going to have some crabby guests!” my mom shouted to my grandmother.

“I can’t finish until I get my hands on some butter. Tell Nallely to go to the store and get some for me... TELL HER TO HURRY!”

While I was running to the store, I accidentally bumped into my neighbor who was holding a large cup of hot coffee. The coffee spilled all over his clothes. When I realized I made a big mistake, I ran back home with the butter. I looked back to see that my neighbor was chasing me. I closed the door, and I heard him scream: “You have to pay for this”

I had a bad feeling that something was going to be wrong, but I tried my best to ignore him.

My neighbor is a skinny man who is forty years old. He has short and black hair. He was wearing a black shirt and saggy blue pants. His eyes seemed to be saying, “Be quiet! I need some sleep!”

Eventually my neighbor left my house to go to his house and take his nap. The turkey was ready by 2:30 p.m. By 3:00p.m., family members were knocking at my door to celebrate.

Once the table was set up, my grandmother brought the golden brown turkey to the center of our table and turned on some calm classical music. We all served each other and prepared to eat. Finally, for the first time in this whole chaotic day, we had a peaceful meal without any distractions or problems.

When we were finished eating, we all started to change the music to really loud rock and roll music by Elvis Presley. My mom is a big fan of his. However, a few minutes later, a cop stopped by our house.

“Excuse me, but some of your neighbors are complaining about your music being too loud,” he said.

So we immediately turned the music off. But when we knew the cop was long gone, we turned the music up again. It was so loud that my ears began to hurt with a ringing noise. The neighbors complained again, and the cop came back a second time. This time we turned the music off for good.

Later in the day, we started a bonfire in my backyard to keep us warm. My favorite aunt decided to tell scary stories that had happened to my family. Everyone was scared.

After a while, we saw our neighbor at his window. He was also listening to our scary stories. When my dad realized that my neighbor was getting too nosey, he became upset with my neighbor.

My dad is a slender thirty-three-year-old man. He has really short black hair. He was wearing a blue shirt with black saggy pants. My dad’s eyes seemed to be saying, “I hate you,” while he looked at our neighbor. My dad’s face was as red as a tomato because he became so angry during the argument.

It wasn’t long until my entire family began to argue with our neighbor. Dad. Mom. Relatives. Friends of the family. Even small babies riding tricycles had something to say. Eventually we decided to stop arguing with him, and decided to quit arguing, too. By this time, everybody was too tired to party. So everybody went home to sleep.
On this day, I learned that arguing does not always solve your problems. It can also make you too tired to do the things you really want to do.   

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