Dear Arnold,

All things considered, you're expectation was correct. This ended up being one of the doleful Thanksgiving dinners of my life. You are so fortunate to have been sent to a boarding school, but I was compelled to persevere through the torment.
The night started out kind of fine, barring the car crash Aunt Cherline got into on the way here. Her car was wrecked, turning that corner by the cliff that you're continually informing me of. She was fortunate enough to jump out before it went over, however she needed to walk the two miles to the house. Nobody would give her a lift, considering that she's not very much liked, but whatever. No biggie. It didn't ruin the dinner in any capacity.
I came here late. I endeavored to hide in the music room, the one at the east side of the house. It's was the one that nobody used. I  believed it was a decent concealing spot until Uncle Bernie discovered me. I was then escorted the whole route to the dining corridor.
When I got there, people were just milling around. Nobody wanted to be the one to call dinner service, considering that they would have to the prayers. It really seems like no one likes doing it.
Cousin Sasha hurried towards me the instinct I strolled in. She's not the one you're wondering. That cousin Sasha had an infant a couple of days prior. It's the one ate trash from the waste bin a year ago, the pug-faced one. Yeah, the one that had a crush on you. Nasty.
Anyway, she yammered about her financial issues or something. I wasn't generally tuned in. I was watching Father attempt to have a discussion with great-aunt Lily. They despise each other, yet for reputation purposes, they endeavored to get along. It was truly pleasing to watch.
Mother, at long last, rang the bell, as she does each year when she becomes tired of waiting. Everybody sat down, even me. I don't need to go to the doltish children table any longer. Thank the lord. Now that's something to be grateful about.
After prayers, we started to eat. Most of the food was cooked by Mom and her sisters, but the turkey was burned by Aunt Queen, (I refuse to call her Bill, she still looks like a female to me). They forced her to go down to the supermarket to get a preheated one, but it tasted the same as one cooked from scratch.
We got down to talking, or possibly they talked and I tuned in. It was the typical array of discussions, from Uncle Richard grumbling about expenses to Grandma whining about father. It was in the nicest way possible, but s***, she is a racist. Considering that our parents got hitched over 20 years back, she also doesn't know how to release things. Father had his stone-icy face on, however, was clenching his hands, so that mostly gave away his anger away. Mother appeared as though she was two seconds from shouting at grandma, yet, to be honest, I think the anger is long late.
Goodness my god, I've revealed the juiciest plot ever. Alright, part way through supper, Cousin Daniel and Aunt Felma pardoned themselves, not at the same time, but rather a couple of minutes separated. I didn't acknowledge it, nor did anybody else. After they cleared out for a few minutes, our nephew Rob spilled his red wine all over me. The scatterbrain endeavored to clean it up with tissue, which made the liquid seep farther into the silk. I was so angry, I could've yelled at him for hours, however before I gave him a decent tongue whipping, Mom instructed me to leave the table and change dresses. She knows me so well. Anyway, I was walking back from putting on the red velvet dress that you bought me when I heard a whispered conversation. I crept closer because I am a sucker for gossip. What I heard will astonish you.
  “ Hey, Donald knows.”
  “ What?! But how? We got rid of all the evidence, and covered our tracks.”
  “ There was footage. How the f**** did you not get rid of the security camera?
  “ I don’t know. That night was just a blur to me. Oh my god, we are so screwed. What does he want?”
  “ 200,000 cash. By tomorrow.”
  “ WTF… how are we gonna get that kind of money? I have maybe 3,000 in the bank…”
Those were the exact words, I kid you not. They are genuine murders. I don't know who they were discussing, yet it might have something to do with the fire on the summer house a year ago. I didn't have much time to harp on the discussion, however, we need to hold it in the back of our minds, you know, in the event of some unforeseen issue.
I snuck back to the dining hall, seconds before the pair. I was still chuckling, but I didn't forget to smack Rob in the back of the head.Ha, may make him more quick-witted then he truly is. Mother sent me a grimy look, clearly not missing my stunt. I think about whether I should inform her concerning the prepare crash that the nitwit pair did. Might get her off my back.
By the time desserts arrived, people were genuinely ready to flee. The tension was so high that you can cut it with a dull butter knife. I was tired by that point. I had spent all my energy trying to dodge conversations while trying to make it like I was not avoiding anyone. I was wired up like a spring, ready to leap towards my room the second that I was excused. But someone beat me to the punch.
You remember me telling you about Grandma taking jabs at Father. Well, that went on all night, and Mom finally blew. It was amazing. She went on and on about how grandma had been acting and looked like she was ready to rip one into her. Grandma deserved what was coming to her. So, that was the good news.
The bad news is that all that yelling seemed to take a domino effect on the rest of the family. Suddenly, everyone was voicing their opinions on each other, and things took an ugly turn quick when Uncle Ned punched Uncle Richards in the face. I had to herd the kids out when plates and food started to fly around the room.
So basically, our annual dinner ended in a riot. One of our cousins called the police, and they arrived in less than ten minutes. Pretty much every adult in the room walked out of the house in cuffs. I’m now writing this at the police station, ready to post bail for Father and Mother. I don’t give a crap about the rest of the family.
You should have been here. It was lucky that you had ‘exams’ that week, so you gotta get out of this miserable torment. Maybe you could come to Christmas dinner, it’s only in a few months. Mother is planning to invite the whole family again, perhaps this time we’ll get a swat team.

From your dear sister,

Elizabeth

P.S. Cousin Daniel and Aunt Felma are pretty much going to stay in prison. I heard them confess from all the way across the hall. What babies...