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I was at home, sitting by the cracking fire. It was chilly outside, with the wind howling nonstop as loud as a lion’s roar. I swaddled myself in a blanket, reading my favourite Lord of the Rings book. The wonderful smell of fried bacon wafted out from the kitchen.
Suddenly, I heard my baby brother’s loud chortling. I waddled over to him, and to my utmost horror, I found him eating my pet turtle, Gobbles! Crunch. Crunch. ‘Gobbles!’ I cried, ‘What have you done to him, you vile git?’
‘Eat turtle!’ he said.
‘Mum, Clover ate Gobbles!’ I choked, as if an invisible hand had grasped my throat.
‘What did you say?’ Mum asked, as she came rushing towards us.
This time I was speechless, I pointed towards my brother’s stomach and towards the miniscule legs that were sticking out of Clover’s mouth. I gathered all my strength and could only manage a single word – Gobbles.
Breathing heavily, Mum said with a slight note of severity in her voice, ‘Did you eat the turtle?’
‘Yum,’ muttered Clover.
‘How dare you speak that filthy word out of your unworthy mouth!?’ I screamed at him hysterically.
‘Yum,’ he repeated, enjoying the attention.
I lifted him up and turned him upside down then shook him violently, hoping that he would vomit Gobbles out. ‘James!’ Mum shouted, aghast. However, her words of shock never reached my ears. I dropped Clover. He choked, then burped and finally the squirming Gobbles fell out of his mouth. I noticed that half of Gobbles’ shell was missing.
The next day, we took Clover to the hospital for surgery and Gobbles to the vet for his new flashy artificial shell. When we got back home, mum was positively howling for Clover. I caught words like ‘is he going to get better’ and ‘how long’ but I didn’t care. I was back with my turtle again.
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