Mad About McDonald's

My dad was mad about McDonald’s and he couldn’t live without having something from McDonald’s at least once a day. It was good for him, but not for the rest of the family who had to put up with him. We gradually started to avoid eating at McDonald’s with him, and he showed obvious displeasure at our lack of enthusiasm. “Why won’t you come? Don’t you want to eat with me?” Dad said. All of us, including my mom and sister told him loud and clear, “No, Dad, we just don’t want to eat at McDonald’s.”

He spent the whole day looking depressed, but he was unrepentant.

On one Sunday night, after we finished preparing for school, I turned off the light in the bedroom. My little sister was already fast asleep on the top of the bunk bed. I quietly slid into the bottom bunk so as not to wake my sister, and closed my eyes.

Sometime later, I heard the door of our bedroom open. I opened my eyes a crack to see who came in and saw Ronald McDonald standing there. Ronald seemed unaware that I was awake, and walked stealthily to our bed. From what I saw through my half-closed eyes and the noise being made, I could sense he was trying to wake up my sister.

“Gooood Niiiiiiiiiiight! HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!”

I heard Ronald’s joyful laugh, followed by my sister’s piercing scream, and the violent shaking of the bed.

Something shot out of the top bunk and hit the desk below; the desk tumbled over, and the stationery goods scattered all over the floor.

From the doorway, I heard my mom cry out in alarm, “What are you doing here?”

Ronald turned on the light. At that moment, I realized for the first time that the person impersonating as Ronald was my dad.

Behind my dad, from underneath the desk that had turned over I saw a bit of my sister’s pink pajamas peeping out. Around it, a pool of blood was forming.

The ambulance came. The paramedics looked at my dad with astonishment. My dad, in his excitement, punched one of them in the face.

My mom shouted, “You stay at home!” But my dad pushed her away and got into the ambulance with my sister. Our neighbors just watched us, dumbfounded.

I was left alone in the messed-up bedroom. My dad then told me and my mom later that he did it to make us like McDonald’s more.

My little sister lied on the bed. She opened her eyes wide, clenched her teeth, and waved her arms and legs uncontrollably.

“Nnnnmph, nnnnmmmm, nnnhmmmmn,” my sister groaned under the bed cover. She had damaged both her head and spine in her fall. “Daaaaghhhdyyyyyyy.”

My sister, who had been so sweet and pretty before, had changed into a different creature in just half a year.

My mom cried. I said nothing. My dad munched on a Big Mac.