My parents shot the Easter Bunny

I lay in my sleeping bag on the rigid floor, trying to catch as much sleep that I can before it fleets away from me... only returning the following evening. It's 8:00 in the morning. My uncle comes into the room and starts bellowing about how we (my cousins and I) need to start getting ready for church. What? Church... already? What about the infamous basket search and chocolate feast? I chuckle to myself as these thoughts run through my head, and I reminisce back to the morn I first discovered there is no oversized rabbit running around dropping off baskets of candy for little boys and girls.

I was six. An age of ignorance, yet the gaining of wisdom was soon to come. It's Easter and I had just awoken, brushing the sleep from my eyes and fantasizing about what lay ahead. Succulent marshmallow, sugar-coated, chocolate goodies await me as I step from my bed and downstairs. I finally reach the living room and there it sits, with all its radiant glory, my Easter basket. It's positioned just right on the coffee table. I see from the kitchen it's brimming with all sorts of tasty treats and foil-wrapped candies just waiting to give me a stomach ache and rot my teeth out. But what's this...?

IT'S THE SAME FUCKING BASKET FROM LAST YEAR!!!. How can this be? That's never happened before. The Easter Bunny doesn't recycle baskets! This must be some sort of mistake... My parents begin their descent from their room, thoughts race through my mind of what to ask. Eventually I manage to stutter out that this was the same basket from last year and all they could say was,

"Yeah, we didn't feel the need to buy a new basket."

So that's it. My parents are the Easter Bunny. So in essence there is no easter bunny, just my parents pulling a funny prank on me. I dropped my chocolate, sat down, and cried...

I drift back to reality and laugh at the 'good old times' Being seventeen it doesn't seem so bad, there not being an Easter Bunny that is. I manage to pull myself up off the floor and make my way into the kitchen. There's a chocolate rabbit waiting on the table with my name on the cellophane wrapper. Its neck is broken.