So, I am vegan. I want to get that out of the way first thing. That will help you understand this a little bit more. I walk downstairs, keeping a steady eye on the wood beneath me. I've fallen time after time down these stairs and I don't want to do it again. As I reach the bottom, I mentally applaud myself for making it all the way down without losing my footing. I start walking toward the kitchen, where my mother is cooking dinner. I smell the shrimp and the spices and tomatoes.
I enter the kitchen, preparing myself to eat once again with animals on the table. I'm slightly shocked to see a steak on the counter. My father is the only person in our house that eats red meat and he's been trying to lay off it for a while. It surprised me to see it there.
I walk over to the table and grab my plate. I head to the bowl of noodles next to the sink and fill my plate up with them. I then drizzle a little tomato sauce on them and grab a wheat roll from the center counter, next to my father. He reaches for the prongs to grab his steak. I turn my attention back to the rolls. When I look back up, I see blood. Then, I register that the blood is from the steak my father just grabbed. He is now seated at the table.
"I don't understand how you can eat something that you can clearly see the blood come out of. It was a living animal," I proclaim. He takes a second to respond.
"You used to love it," he says with attitude under his breath. He turns back to his steak and takes a big bite out of it. I scowl and respond.
"Well, I don't anymore." That's the difference between me and you. I've learned from my wrongs and injustice, I say in my head. I don't bring up your past mistakes, do I Dad? No.
I sat down and then had a very awkward dinner. The end.