A drunken uncle can be the best or worst for our family gatherings. It usually starts off by taking that awkward silence in the room off with a funny comment or two. After a while the drunken uncles in my family are notorious for weighing in on the food spread. Last time, Uncle Jim was very particular about the Turkey sandwiches my cousin Louie had made. With a hot knife Uncle Jim slurred, he said he could dice up Turkey Sandwiches faster than a chef on The Food Network.

Uncle Ricky used to be the coolest uncle.

But after sometime away, locked up in a factory selling beer, he had changed.

He used to walk in, smelling clean and dressed nice, but he doesn't care about his appearance anymore.

He dresses in old, holy t-shirts, sweat pants, and his hair oily and disheveled.

What happened?

Oh yeah, and he's also an alcoholic.

He drinks, and drinks, and drinks, and drinks as if he has dementia.

But then, this happened.

One strange night, I woke up tied down to a kitchen chair, gagged and everything.

When I looked down at my bindings, I noticed that my shirt was off... explains why I was so cold.

Removing the gag from my mouth, I wanted to ask him so much questions, but I could never get the chance to.

He shoved a turkey sandwich in my mouth, saying to "eat it," and that I "needed the energy".

Huh?

Instantly, I saw it in his hand... a sharp kitchen knife.

Watching him nervously, he sticks the blade into the fire lit on the stove before coming behind me.

"Be very still," he told me. "Don't move. The quicker I do this, the faster you'll be done."

He swiped my hair over my left shoulder, and leaned in carefully.

His hot breath was the first thing I felt, but then the searing pain came after.

I cried, I screamed, the man was torturing me... cutting me open on the middle of my back.

Why, Uncle Ricky? Why?

And as soon as I heard the knife echo onto the floor, I threw up and fainted on the spot.

Now I have the word "strong" forever marked into my skin... a tattoo that won't go away.

My uncle wasn’t a bad man. He was just not understood very well it didn’t help that he had a weird sense of humor. He also had a different view on life and people. My uncle was a man who liked drinking beer a lot and he always had a favorite snack to eat while he drank his beer, and that was a turkey sandwiched. My uncle also turned into a different man when he drank to much and that was not always so much fun, but it was funny when it was directed towards someone else and not on you. My uncle was a married man and she was very jealous but that never stopped him from flirting with other people, men, women, the old, and the young. But one day he went to far.

The day started off as normal as any other day. My uncle was drinking early in the morning not that strange but what was strange was that he wasn’t wearing a shirt. Now my uncle was not some young buck and an old deer. He had a big beer gut and a hairy chest that went to his arm and covered his hands it was a dark and curly and he did not smell nice he smelled like beer and pee and “other” stuff. Near the end of the day is when everything went to hell.

My uncle was drunker then usual but his wife was mad at him for some reason or another. He was always messing with her in the worst was possible. But on this day he pushed her to far he said some remark about her ugly appearance and when was so gonna make him his goddamn turkey sandwich but this time when she came in with his food she dumped the sandwich on his lap with one hand and in the other hand she had a big kitchen knife and with a quick movement she slashed his throat open and stabbed him in the chest screaming “die die die you blood sucking monster” and left his body and went outside. After she left and the police were called they found her body in the river her skin gone long ago and her skeleton and clothes were barely holding her together.

Stepping into my local I couldn't believe the state my uncle was in. Though , I would say he was quite in his rights to choose a bottle of whisky as his best friend. After all it is not everyday your wife of only 1 day tells you she is soon to have a sex change op. So standing next to him at the bar I did feel sorry for him. And now after a good hour of telling me the sob story that I already knew , I at last managed to draw his attentions to eat something. Silence filled the air as we tucked into our food and I prayed some of his bread would soak up the alcohol that flowed in his veins . It seemed to be working. That was until the subject for all of my uncles heartaches walked in. And he was not amused . I now watched in horror as he spat out a huge slither of turkey and as it landed onto his plate he then reached across to my plate. The cheeky bugger then grabbed my knife not my pie and chips . I pleaded for him to see sense and put it down. But all my efforts were in vain and so I took a step back as he waved it in the air at his wife standing before us. She, Ignoring the unfriendly welcome went on to say that she had come to join us for a drink as the he that she had now become, because why try to fit in when you are born to stand out. The preaching continued that my uncle should get a grip and put the blunt knife down .

But how could things be the same as they had once been with her now standing here dressed as a man. My uncle not impressed tried to strike her with the knife. She too was not impressed and so soon had him in a headlock whilst shouting ” I am a man so I will fight like one” I left them to it because I for one was not the type to get in the middle of a domestic .

So choosing to mind my own business I took a slow walk down the road to go do some shopping. It was not long before my uncle was trying to get hold of me on my phone. The call was short and to the point as he briefed that everything was now okay and he had only been upset because there had been a lot of guilt which had reached boiling point as it had not been easy trying to try to find a way to tell my aunty that he too was coming out of a closet. I found myself walking into the nearest pub as he then told me they are going to be staying together, her as he and him now as she . Before the barman had a chance to speak I wailed ” Give me a large one! ”

Christmas for my family wasn’t like any others. We made turkey sandwiches for dinner, the adults drank beer, and the kids had water. My parents cooked a turkey and used a hot knife to slice it for the sandwiches. After we got done eating and the adults got done drinking, we went into the living room and picked a movie. Every year one of the adults get drunk though, and it was my uncle. He has way too many beers that his body can handle and soon ends up throwing it all up during the movie. I mean, christmas for us is not normal for any other family, but it is normal for us.

“Today I went to my cousin house” I quickly wrote in my old torn up diary. “Her dad ,my sad drunken uncle, was there cutting up her favorite meal. Turkey sandwiches. “Yuck” I wrote. My uncle Ronny aka the drunken uncle was cutting up the worst meal I have ever eating and the worst part I had to act like I liked it. “ you know we don’t have no heater so I used a hot knife to cut it, the middle should be warm” said my uncle. Then me and my cousins went to play to work off those cold but hot in the middle,cut with hot knife by my drunken uncle

My uncle is useless. Ever since he lost his wife he has started drinking. And it’s not like the normal adult where they go out to parties and clubs and drink, it’s the type of adult where he buys loads of bottles from the shop and sits in his living room watching depressing tv and drinking non stop all day. The only time he moves out of that chair is when he has run out of vodka or whiskey or well whatever it is he drinks. Today my parents were going away for a romantic weekend so that meant I was stuck with my drunken uncle. When I got there he was kind of sober but you could tell he has already drank loads. Anyway walking in he just smiled and then went back to his usual thing. Honestly I couldn’t be bothered to deal with it so I went upstairs to the room I usually stay in. After a few hours I went downstairs to get something to eat. All I could find in the fridge was bread and turkey so I decided to make myself a couple of turkey sandwiches. Walking past the living room I noticed he was out cold. I kind of panicked. Lucky enough I heard some sort of trick you could do to wake someone up. You get a hot knife and hold it against a cloth on their forehead. I have no idea if this works but I’m gonna try. 10 mins later... nope ok that didn’t work. Well I’m outta ideas. Oh well he’s useless I’m not gonna bother waking him up. I’m going to bed.

My Christmas is not like many others. There is no free for all gift opening. There is no running back to our rooms to spend the day with all our new toys. There are no crazy drunken uncles, nor white trash cousins. No one gets ran over by reindeer. No one gets left out of it. But by golly, it’s crazy. And it is crazy good.

But this year...this year was different. I woke early, excited to spend time with my family. Excited to give gifts. Excited to love each other. We opened gifts, my last one being a beautiful and intricately carved knife. Seemingly just out of a fantasy.

I placed it in my room with the rest of my gifts, heading down stairs for a quick lunch. We quickly ate turkey sandwiches, and with that done the real fun began.

The games come hard and fast. Hitting like punches. The longest and most anticipated game was a family version of capture the flag/hide and seek/tag/extreme Calvin ball.

We spread out, hiding and preparing. I burst out of the shadows on my mark. I sprinted around the corner. I jumped off a small bridge. I climbed a tree and jumped to the next. Cross a river. Run down a hill. And with next corner, I truly lost. My blade.

My blade shoved right between my ribs, meeting my heart like a wrenching kiss. The cold metal shocks my blood, but the metal turns warm as my blood washes over it.

Family games have become too competitive.