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“Why won’t you look at me,” Shelley solemnly says, visibly planting her feet where she stood, in the middle of a gift shop clothing section.
Sharon, however, was determined to keep her eyes on the clothing rack in front of her, unwilling to give into her daughter's seemingly strange demand.
The sun was currently at high noon, harshly casting its rays against the dry desert landscape below, in the beautiful state of New Mexico. The pair were in the middle of a mother daughter bonding trip, by recommendation of Sharon’s therapist, who was newly afforded by the family farm.
“Shelley, we’re in public,” Sharon whispers threateningly over her shoulder, irritatedly shifting through the shirts, causing a loud metal scrape from the wire hook of the hanger to be heard.
“No,” Shelley protests, stepping away from her mother defiantly. “You won’t fucking look at me,” the tween rebelliously yells, allowing bystanders to glance curiously at the mother-daughter pair.
Sharon’s face flushes red from feeling the eyes of everyone around the two of them, allowing a tired huff of frustration to escape, and resists the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose.
Stepping away from the rack, Sharon pulls down the chunky sunglasses Sheila had gifted her before the two left, feeling wisps of hair stick to her forehead, and walks away from her adolescent daughter, avoiding all eye contact in the process.
Shelley follows behind her, throwing various obscenities at her mother in anger, as the two head toward their car.
Shelley had always had issues with properly expressing emotions with her family; specifically taking it out on her younger brother and very recently her father. Sharon, only wanting the best for her daughter, brought Shelley to her therapy appointment last week, to get to the bottom of it.
The older woman wishes that she had brought her husband with her to photograph the look on her face when Shelley alleged it was because neither parent would look at her.
This question had been an issue ever since Shelley had turned 10, she would terrorize both parents with her strange question of why they wouldn’t look at her.
Randy determined that it was a taunt Shelley used when she wouldn’t get her way with something; while Sharon believed it was because Shelley felt frustrated with those around her, and felt as if she wasn’t being seen. Shelley had a lot of communication problems, often physically acting them out or verbally torturing those around her.
It had been years since Sharon had heard her daughter say that, mainly because she avoids fighting with the young girl as much as possible. Sharon would temporarily rid herself of the incessant question by sending Shelley to Girl Scouts or making her babysit for her mom friends; when Sharon had to be around her, she would find herself awkwardly roaming the streets with the other wives of South Park to earn whatever social brownie points.
Whenever she and her daughter fought, it reminded her of the way she and her husband fought horribly. Shelley got the same stupid look on her face like he did, and sounded just like him at times apart from the lisp.
Sharon isn’t proud to admit it, but she did avoid looking at Shelley, in some fucked up way to rectify the fighting she had with Randy.
Both front doors to their brand new Lexus slammed shut, as the two sat in a tense silence, listening to the car engine roar to life. They were stuck in the desert for the next week. It was spring break. Sharon’s therapist was really big on the two bonding within nature, and away from the two’s main issue in Colorado. This entire trip somehow had managed to worsen the nature of the problem all together.
“You still won’t fucking look at me,” Shelley says, watching her mother struggle typing in the address to their hotel with her darkend sunglasses. Sharon lets out a tired huff, turning her head toward her daughter.
“Happy Shelley?”
“No.” The mousey brown haired teenager sarcastically replies, giving her mother a taunting smile. Sharon drops her phone into the cup holder, and immediately puts the car into drive, aggressively pulling onto the road after her daughter's response.
“I want to go home.” Shelley mutters, leaning her head against the window and staring out. Sharon can only sadly glance at her daughter as she drives. The guilt starts to set in as she looks out at the scenery zooming by them. She needed to make this trip up to her daughter.
At that moment, Sharon's eye catches a sign on the side of the road: “Wonder what’s outside our very own solar system?” The older woman was in disbelief that it was still there. The car maneuvers dangerously across 2 lanes of traffic, warranting some car honks and a certain choice of words from Shelley, but still makes the exit.
“What the hell, mom?!” Shelley asks, looking at her mother in bewilderment.
“What? Can your father do any better?” Sharon teasingly asks, wiggling her eyebrows awkwardly at her daughter. This warrants a small smile that Shelley tries to hide by turning her head toward the window, but Sharon catches anyway.
~~~
When they arrive, it’s a tan blocked building, with a “UFO Museum” sign directly on top of and next to it, lit up in tacky colors. The surrounding area had various tattoo and piercing shops, with small diners and motels. It seemed as though this was the town’s main attraction.
Shelley looked over at her mother, whose face wore an unusual expression while staring at the ugly building. It sort of looked like Sharon was reflecting on something that was nice, as there was a soft smile on her face which only piqued the teen’s curiosity.
“Why did you bring us here,” Shelley asks, giving a dead eyed look at her mother as Sharon is pulled out of thought. Her mother’s face falls immediately, the smile’s disappearance adding years to Sharon’s face. Shelley watches as her mother drops her head in her purse for something, before pulling out her phone and awkwardly posing it toward the girl.
“Say ‘Shooting Stars’!”
Shelley scowls as the camera flashes in broad daylight, allowing Sharon to drop her phone down, messing with the settings, before picking it back up and pointing it in the teenager's face.
“Another one for your uncles, Shell?” Sharon sweetly teases, holding her phone up again, causing the adolescent to groan slightly. “Fine,” adjusting her clothes and holding up a peace sign, “don’t expect the smile to be amazing.”
Once Sharon paid for their tickets and entered the building. The duo were greeted by a cheery staff with a high ponytail green shirt, holding a pamphlet and handing them out. It’s a weird looking place, filled with blues and white and various walls of newspapers detailing the incident that inspired the museum in the first place.
“Why are we here again?” Shelley asks, a few minutes into the tour, staring at UFO Nazi toys happily placed on display. “This place icks me out.”
“Your father brought me down here when we were in college,” Sharon dreamily explains, staring at an alien poster. It was Shelley’s turn to be completely disappointed, Sharon watching her face drop completely.
“He had taken like 3 hits of-” Sharon pauses, pushing her sunglasses up on her forehead, glancing at her phone while obviously swiping away a message, before continuing.
“How do I phrase this,” Sharon trails off, noticing Shelley’s once deadpan face now had an expression of complete annoyance at the mention of her husband.
“Y-your father had gotten h-high,”
“Of course he did-” Shelley interjects with an annoyed tone, “When is he NOT,” she finishes rolling her eyes.
“And had heard from one of our college friends about this museum..he was convinced we were gonna see a real one,” Sharon chuckles lightly and shakes her head.
“When we got here he fought a mannequin, because he was too… gone to realize,” the older woman finishes, finally letting out the laugh she had been holding back.
Shelley watches how light her mother looks recalling the memory, contrasted with the looks she had given her father when they left the farm 2 days ago, which was filled with disdain and annoyance.
“I think I still remember where he–” Sharon says after she finishes laughing, turning away from her daughter and walking further in. Shelley’s face contorts further into annoyance, but she follows anyway.
The exhibit had various crooks and crannies, but Sharon walks past all of them toward the exit, with Shelley a few steps behind her. They entered a room, with blue painted walls and filled with crystals and alien souvenirs alike, with a gift shop sign hanging above one display.
Sharon stopped in front of a display carrying alien themed trinkets, toys, and cards, picking out a handful of things. Sharon was practically nose deep pulling out items into her hand, barely acknowledging her daughter's presence.
“What does this have to do with Dad?” Shelley irritatedly asks, causing her mother to jump a bit. Sharon briefly glances at her daughter, surprise she hadn’t acted out yet before looking back at the display.
“You’ll see, help your mom out and grab a basket okay?”
“Why should I,” the teenager angrily points out. “This is the third time you’ve forgotten I was here,” crossing her arms and looking at her mother brazenly.
Sharon barely reacts to the teenagers protest, glancing down at her phone and waiting for her daughter to move away. When the teen doesn’t move, Sharon clicks her tongue at something on her phone.
“Pick something out for your friends and your brother,” Sharon sternly says, barely looking up from her phone to look at Shelley. The teenage girl starts to huff in protest, but walks away from the exchange, unwilling to fight back.
~~~
Shelley reluctantly returns with a small basket for her mother, filled with small toys and crystals, grimacing at the coo Sharon lets out whenever she hands the basket over.
“Okay, now I can show you where Randy lost his mind,” Sharon says giddily, looking into the basket as she drops the items in. Sharon grabs Shelley’s hand and turns away from her daughter, guiding them toward the checkout line.
When they reach, there is a group of employees, all dressed in gray sweat suits, standing behind the counter, holding their phones, with a depressed expression on their faces. Sharon clears her throat, giving them a small smile.
They all stare briefly before sighing and pulling over big green stereotypical alien head suits, chanting a creepy chime, and awkwardly doing a dance for them.
Sharon happily claps her hands, the joy in her eyes shining, as the group finishes, watching them dump out their basket of merchandise.
“Our discounts are out of this world, would you like to sign up for our email or texting lists?” an employee asks robotically, convincing Shelley that the voice wasn’t a part of the act.
“Dad freaked out about this??” Shelley asks, watching the underpaid employees awkwardly pass their items down the line, their huge bubble heads crashing into each other. The employees start to bicker, their words overlapping each other enough the babble to sound like aliens.
“He got a lifetime ban,” Sharon says, her face twinges with pain, the look in her eye distant, watching the employees awkwardly stop bagging at the news. Sharon’s phone loudly buzzes, cutting through the thick silence.
“O-oh,” the teenager responds, casting her gaze away from her mother.
“U-uh have an out-of-this-world day,” an employee says after a moment, holding their bag of merchandise in front of the pair.
Both Marshes reach for the bag, their hands meeting in the middle, causing the both of them to glance at each other– both momentarily taken aback with the mutual eye contact.
Sharon is the first to break it, quickly taking the bag and thanking the employee, before pulling her sunglasses down again.
“Oh was looking at me that horrible Mom?!” Shelley yells at her mother’s behavior.
“Don’t start that– shit now Shelley,” the older woman bitterly responds, dropping the bag of merchandise to her side, her arm slightly bouncing off of her purse.
“ You put those stupid fucking glasses on as soon as you looked at me,” Shelley yells back, the force of her words allowing her bangs to fall slightly more into her face, as spit flies.
Sharon rolls her eyes, again walking away from her daughter, reaching in her back pocket to immediately pull her phone out. Shelley follows her mother out of the building, watching the older woman read the notification, allowing the mousy haired girl to hear the annoyed groan that emerged. Sharon stops a few feet away from a crosswalk, Shelley stopping a couple steps behind, allowing her daughter to see those wretched sunglasses be pushed up on her forehead.
The two stand in a brief moment of silence, as Sharon’s phone starts to vibrate, her android ringtone repeatedly going. Sharon just stands there, refusing to look at the younger Marsh, as the buzzing eventually stops.
“Let’s go Shelley,” the older woman finally says, pushing her sunglasses down as she turns to face her daughter. Shelley can feel her face deepening in a blush of anger, the hopelessness she felt while facing her mother started to hit a bit harder as they continued standing in the middle of nowhere New Mexico.
“Why do you hate me so much?”
“Shelley seriously, let’s go,” Sharon harshly replies, pinching her lips tighter together.
“No! You force me to go along with Dad’s bullshit all of the fucking time–”
“Watch what you say about him Shelley, he is still your father-”
“YOU married him! YOU had HIS kids! YOU favor Stan and Dad over me ALL the FUCKING time-”
“Watch your language, young lady!”
“YOU forced us to move to that HELL farm, YOU remarried him TWICE, YOU forced us on this STUPID trip-”
“Shelley-”
“YOU BARELY FUCKING LOOK AT ME!”
“Shelley Edith Marsh! I am your mother and I refuse to let you speak to me like this,” Sharon sternly says, walking toward her daughter and taking a firm grasp of her hand.
“FUCK YOU, LET GO OF ME,” Shelley spits, pulling her body away from her mother,
“I DON'T KNOW YOU! HELP!” the adolescent shouts as an onlooking couple passes by.
“WE are going to get dinner,” Sharon firmly says, firmly dragging her daughter and walking down the road, “YOU don’t have a choice.”
The two continue to struggle, one body pushing forward, while the other pulls back. It is a spectacle to watch, as strings of curse words are clearly heard, barely moving any closer to crossing the road.
Shelley suddenly stops pulling against her mother, the hair on the nape of her neck rising, causing her tantrum to end abruptly. The force of Sharon’s pulling was enough to get the teenager to take a step closer to the sidewalk, allowing Sharon to let out soft cheer of victory as Shelley pulled her arm away.
“Y-you’re a lot bigger than you were when you w-were– 8,” Sharon huffs slightly, holding her back with her right arm, attempting to catch her breath. Shelley barely acknowledges her mother, her head is turned and staring at something in the opposite direction from them.
“Are you ready to get some dinner now Shelley?” Sharon asks, cocking an eyebrow at her brown mousy haired daughter, her line of sight following where Shelley was staring, only finding a dark shadowy blob standing past the UFO museum.
“Let’s go mom,” Shelley finally responds, pushing past her mother, immediately jaywalking the street cross.
~~~
The diner they were in looked like the stereotypical former 50’s restaurant turned into a Mom and Pop shop, as the pair sat in an uncomfortable silence in their spacey big red booth chair seats.
Sharon was currently on her phone, rapidly tapping away, as the white screen brightly reflected off of her sunglasses, that she had refused to take off while ordering their dinner, ignoring a disheveled Shelley in front of her.
The teenager had a spooked look on her face, her hair was frizzled from the earlier struggle, her bangs laid messily on her forehead. Shelley’s white shirt was ruffled up, her headgear slightly crooked, and the anger that was currently bubbling for her mother sat on top of her chest area, making it impossible to breathe.
Shelley re-lived what she was feeling in those last moments before they arrived in this comforting atmosphere. While attempting to get away from her mother, the teenager suddenly felt eyes boring into the back of her, but when she went to look only saw a dark blob a couple blocks away from them. It was terrifying. That was the only reason she had agreed to leave with her mother.
But her mother had barely noticed any change in Shelley’s demeanor. She was too busy on her cell phone.
“You brought us out here to be on your phone Mom?” Shelley asks, breaking the thick silence between the two.
“I think you made your point clear the first time we ordered our food, Shelley,” Sharon responds, her lips tight.
“You haven’t done shit to prove me wrong,” Shelley spits, waiting for her mother’s response, but doesn't get one, instead hearing a sigh and more intense tapping on the screen.
“Worst Spring Break trip, ever.” Shelley grumbles, turning her head out toward the window.
The shop bell rings, signaling a new customer, prompting Shelley to glance over at her mother. Sharon still hadn’t responded to the teens comment, the older woman’s left arm was now upright , her index finger to her lips, with her ear to the phone.
“You heard my voice for more than 20 fucking seconds and I barely looked away and now you’re on a phone call,” Shelley raises her voice, watching her mother. Sharon glances in Shelley’s direction menacingly, before returning her gaze elsewhere.
“Gawl, I’m going to the fucking bathroom,” Shelley angrily replies, aggressively scooting the table as loud as possible, as she stands. The teenager whips her head around, her eyes landing on a cutesy direction sign pointing toward the bathroom, which was further into the restaurant.
Shelley stomps her way down the section, ignoring the surprised faces of those that stare as she passes. The mousy haired teenager makes her way into the pink painted bathroom, making her way over to the sink to splash water on her face. Shelley turns the water on, allowing the cool water to hit the free parts of her face, before looking up and staring at herself in the reflection. The brim of her eyes were filled with tears, the bulky headset on her head ruffled up her surrounding hairs, her overbite and steely silver braces shining in the soft lighting of the room.
‘Of course mom doesn’t want to look at me.’ she thinks after staring at her reflection for a moment, finally allowing the tears that brimmed her eyes to spill and fall. The teenager sniffles in the restroom for a moment, the sound of rushing water covering the sound, before she jumps up at the door to the restroom opening.
Shelley quickly turns the water off, grabs a couple of tissues and walks out not bothering to notice who had walked in after her. As she heads out, Shelley notices the person who had walked into the restroom a moments earlier was just behind her, wearing a dark hoodie that hid their face.
The teenager feels her heart drop to her feet, not wanting any confrontation, walks back into the main part of the restaurant, toward the table she had last seen her mother. As she walks down the hallway, Shelley feels this looming presence getting stronger to her body space, allowing electric shocks to flow through her legs, prompting the teenager to walk faster.
Crash! The sound of plates and tray’s clattering pull the teenager out of her head. There was a tall waitress covered in milkshakes and ice cream, giving her a concerned look. The ominous presence she had felt moments earlier, gone.
“I-I’m sorry,” Shelley says, avoiding eye contact with the waitress in front of her. The teenager's eyes had accidentally landed on the waitress’ tits, which were being accentuated by the 1950-esque pointy bra now covered in white substances.
“Are you okay hun?” The waitress asks, slightly moving her head down to catch the teen’s eye. Shelley finally looks back up at her, noticing the waitress’ perfectly done eyeliner, eyeshadow and lipstick. She was beautiful; allowing the teenager's face to catch on fire, burning with insecurity and awe.
“I-I’m u-uhm,” Shelley stutters, reaching around to rub the back of her neck before catching her hand in her head gear, awkwardly dropping her arms. “I s-should go get m-my mom to, uhm,”
“No, it’s okay,” the waitress cuts in, giving Shelley a soft smile, “My manager said to bring it to the lady whose daughter ran off to the bathroom, so I can go get some more!”
Shelley’s face somehow got warmer.
“Y-yea,” the teenager squeaks, feeling herself grow smaller. Everyone was able to perceive her but her mom. Go fucking figure.
“Have you seen h-her?” Shelley squeaks out, pushing down any semblance of embarrassment, immediately dropping the waitress’ gaze.
Shelley could feel the restaurant worker taking pity on her, feeling the waitress’ hand on her the small of her back guiding the teen back to the booth she was originally stomped out of.
“She looked pretty stressed after you left,” the waitress softly whispers as they walk back, “But looked like she was gonna lose it when she answered her phone, she went outside I think,” she finishes, happily guiding Shelley back into her seat.
“How about you stay right here and I go grab those milkshakes and ice cream, okay?” The teen only nods in response, not even noticing how the two got back so fast. Once the waitress leaves, Shelley looks out of the diner window, noticing her mother holding a cigarette and grumpily screaming into the phone. Shelley postures to flip her mother off, just as something catches her eye.
The hooded figure that followed her out of the bathroom. Right behind her very preoccupied mother. Shelley starts to bang on the diner window very loudly, pulling the attention from other diner patrons, but not her mother, who seems very focused on that call. Shelley watches as the hooded figure shoves her mothers arm that was holding the phone and pulls the purse she was holding out of her other hand.
“NO! SOMEONE CALL THE POLICE!!” Shelley shouts, before launching herself out of the booth. She nearly misses the waitress from earlier who was still covered from the sticky substance from earlier, holding a tray of milkshakes and ice cream again.
“MOM!” Shelley screams, making it out of the restaurant, willing her body to run like she did in P.E. back in South Park, watching the thief run down the main street. Her mother was right behind them, flailing her arms, seemingly shouting some curse words at him.
“MOM!!” Shelley shouts, willing herself to go faster, but feeling the weight of her headgear start to weigh her down. Sharon barely acknowledges her call, briefly catching the assailant and whacking the arm holding her purse hard enough for them to drop it.
“MOM!!” the teen screams, the guilt rippling through her body, this all could have been avoided if Shelley-
Sharon catches just before it hits the ground and starts to hit the thief with the huge purse, who shoves the older woman in the breast in response, causing Sharon to yelp in pain. This stops Shelley in her tracks, feeling fear buzz all around her body, the color quickly draining from the teens red flushed face.
“MOMMY?” Shelley yelps in response, the fear that her mother would be overpowered by this loser, leaving the last thing that Sharon would remember of her would be their terrible fights, while on a trip to fix that issue.
That was the sound that caught Sharon’s attention, causing the older woman to briefly pause, before she’s roughly punched on the side of the face, crumpling into the ground from the impact. The thief hoodie falls off momentarily as he delivers the blow, allowing Shelley to see a balding head and strangely pointy face, quickly taking the corner.
Shelley snaps out of her trance, immediately running up to her mother lying on the ground unconscious. The teenager drops onto her knees, breathless, tears leaking onto her cheeks, observing the bruise that was forming on Sharon’s cheek.
“Oh, Mommy,” Shelley sobs, burying her face into her mother's side, immediately pulling away as she hears her mother stirring at the worn name that hadn’t been used in years.
“S-Shelley?” Sharon groans slightly, squinting her eyes, turning her head to look over at her daughter. Shelley only seems to cry harder at the sight of her mother, balling her fists and placing them on top of her stomach.
“W-why didn’t you listen to me-,” Shelley chokes out after a moment, allowing her body to shake from her sobs. “Y-you g-g-got hu-hurt-and-I-'' Shelley hiccups, as her fists slide off of her mother’s torso, as Sharon reaches over to hold the teenager. “I-it’s b-because of y-y-your s-stu-hic-stupid phone!”
“Shelley, it was not because of my phone,” Sharon softly says, stroking her daughter's hair for comfort, “I wasn’t paying enough attention to my surroundings,” she says reassuringly.
“Y-you NEVER pay attention to me,” Shelley responds, pulling away from her mother. “It’s my f-fault, y-you HATE m-me!” The teenager yells, heaving her cries into her hands. “N-now y-you're comforting m-me w-when you just got hurt!”
“Shelley, I don't want to argue with you right now,” Sharon calmly says, sliding her hand off of her daughter's hair onto her back. “Let’s go-”
“No! I-If I had told you that a-about t-that THING when w-we first left-m-maybe-”
“Listen to me,” Sharon firmly cuts in, gently pulling her daughter's hands away from her face. Sharon doesn’t look at Shelley directly, her eyes focused on something behind the teenager's head. “There was nothing you or I could’ve done at that moment. I was in the middle of an important call with your father and didn’t want you to overhear okay?”
Shelley’s face flushed red again, the thought of her father pulling her mother’s attention away enough for her to get hurt causes a pang of anger to overpower her sadness. The teens body tenses enough at the comment that Sharon notices, and clears her throat.
“Let’s just head back to the diner and use your phone to call the police and file a report. Then we can head back to the hotel for the night and figure out where to go from there.”
The mousy haired teenager only nods in response, nonverbal from the range of emotions she was currently feeling, pulling her hands away to wipe her face. “I’ll call the police n-now,” Shelley says, reaching into her pants pocket.
“How about I talk to them okay?” Sharon replies, reaching her hand out for help to stand. “I’m glad I got my purse back, I can get us something more than ice cream and milkshakes,” the older woman optimistically adds, as the pair pull each other to their feet.
~~~
The mother daughter pair walked out of the diner an hour later. Whenever they arrived back at the diner, the waitress that Shelley had run into earlier was waiting outside with a pair of police officers, giving her side of the story. Shelley was able to recount how she had noticed the thief earlier in the day and gave them a description about the perp's odd appearance. Sharon was given a bag of peas for her bruise, gave her side of her story and was happily delighted to find that the pair’s dinner would be on the house.
What the two had learned was there was a string in recent burglaries on the street, especially targeting tourists, and that they were the 5th mother daughter pair this week. The creep had a pattern and it was enough to convince the pair to leave the state early.
Miraculously, Sharon and Shelley were able to eat dinner silently, the both of them avoiding each other's gaze. No one spoke about the fights previous, lack of genuinely seeing the other or the entire robbery at all. Shelley was the one who broke the tension and had asked to go back to the hotel to pack.
The only problem was that the parking lot to the entire town’s square was at the very end of the main street, which was probably used to encourage tourist exploring, but the mother daughter-pair was tourist-ed out.
The once hot sun had set into the background allowing the sky to turn from a bright soft baby blue sky into beautiful pinks, purples, and oranges. The wind had finally begun to flow, its breeze cooling off the two who were walking in complete silence. Business building windows glowed a soft yellow from the inside, as street lamps began to light in order, catching the pair in the middle of it.
“I’m sorry I forced you to come on this trip Shelley,” Sharon says as they reach the last crosswalk before the parking lot. She can’t bring herself to look at her daughter as she says this, out of shame? Guilt? It didn’t matter now. Shelley deserved so much more than her.
“No mommy,” Shelley says, causing Sharon to turn her head toward her daughter instinctively. It’s Shelley's turn not to acknowledge her mother now, keeping her eye on the changing crosswalk sign, going as it flashed, “It’s not your fault. It’s his.”
Sharon watches her daughter take the lead in their stride, following behind her, confused as to what her teen meant.
“The thief’s?” Sharon questions, catching up, watching Shelley walk toward their car.
“No. Dad’s.”
“Oh.”
Sharon stops a couple steps behind her daughter, noticing that the back of her daughter had grown up to a little bit shorter than the older woman, and her voice sounding deeper and more mature.
“Shelley-”
At the moment, Sharon feels a sharp pain in her side, causing her to yelp and crumplen into herself. Shelley whips around to the sound and sees the hooded figure from before standing over her mother, tauntingly holding her phone.
“ERJHVAKNDSg!^^(??>!” The “thief” screams, before launching toward Sharon’s purse.
“WHAT THE FUCK???” Shelley screams, picking up a pebble next to her foot and throwing it at the thing. The pebble lands near the thief's “face” causing it to yell in its foreign language and pull its hood down, walking toward the teen.
Shelley screams in fear, allowing Sharon to look up from holding her side to see a strangely sickly pale gray string bean, triangulated head thing, standing in front of her daughter.
“Y-y-your an- an-” Shelley stutters, backing away from the creature into the car’s door.
“SJQ2687T3A{{\\\[]!!!” The thing shrieked, piercing the duo’s ears.
Sharon pushes herself back up, reaching into her bag picking up a can of mace. She had no idea if it would work or what exactly this “thing” wanted, but was determined to keep her daughter safe.
“Hey Creep!” Sharon yells, watching the thing barely turn its head toward her, limping closer to its strange looking body. “Stay the HELL away from my daughter!”
The strange being, angrily whips around, showing its huge black eyes, small slit nose, and long sewn mouth. The thing squints its eyes, walking? No, floating closer to Sharon, tightly clenching her phone in its long fingers. It was fucking terrifying.
But, it was bullying, one of the most precious things in Sharon’s life, wanting to wrong the rights of her failing marriage which was seemingly one of the reasons the two were in this situation, the older brown haired woman tightly shuts her eyes and sprays her mace.
The thief shrieks its horrible pitch scream again as the substance lands around its technically nose area. Shelley immediately runs up and kicks the creature in the back, causing it to land face first into the asphalt, allowing the teen to snatch the phone away from it.
“That's my baby! Take that y-you alien!” Sharon lets out a breath she was holding, praising the young girl for saving them.
“Siri, call 911,” Shelley, barely acknowledging that moment, frantically screams into the phone, shaking the object as the bubble takes its time to show up.
“Calling 911 Daddy Rand Man, now,” the robotic assistant responds, causing the teen and older woman to yelp out in embarrassment at the same time.
Shaking, Shelley attempts to reach in her pocket for her phone, but the alien starts to stir back into reality, sitting up to face the two. Sharon limps to kick it again, but the creature is too fast. Holding a bloody nose and an annoyed expression, evaporates into air, leaving the pair staring at one another in a shocked silence.
“Hello?? Sharon?” A voice echos out, pulling the two out of their trance. It was very obvious who was talking, Shelley looking down at her mother's phone and shuddering at the contact name.
“S-Shaaaron, Staniel is a victim of not being able to be fully masculine in an oppressive society and that’s why the police- *click.*”
Shelley aggressively presses the buttons to turn her mother’s phone off, walking over to her mother to help her move to the car.
“Shelley- I’ll change his name as soon as we’re back-”
“Whatever mom, we just kicked an alien's ass. I doubt the stupid ass cops would believe us anyway,” the teen cuts in, putting herself on the side her mother was limping on.
“Let’s just get the hell out of this state,” Shelley finishes, steadying the older woman to guide her on their path.
“M-maybe we should just get a mani-pedi tomorrow before we go, so I can have some time to recover,” Sharon says as they hobble closely together toward the car.
“It’s okay Mom, I don’t wanna see that turd either. I’ll do whatever,” Shelley responds before the two fall into a close and comfortable silence. Possible one they’d had in a long time.
~~~
The duo were half way to their hotel room, just like they had been a few hours prior, softly singing road trip songs off their playlist, discussing colors and treatments they wanted to do together tomorrow before leaving the state for Tegridy Farms. They spoke about how no one would believe they had seen an alien, the pictures and merch taken and their entire adventure over the object that had been silly fought over.
Sharon’s newly found phone sits comfortably on the dashboard with directions turned on, glowing a harsh white as the sunset turned the colored sky into a dark black, serving as their torch through the dark of it. Just as the phone started to dim, there was a loud buzzing noise that turned off the directions and music, killing the chill mood prior.
It was his contact.
Shelley glances over, watching a tense look overtake her mother’s face as the older woman reads his new contact name. ‘Daddy Randy.’ Horrifying. The young teen's eyes wandered away from the phone screen, landing on the car’s dashboard before her. Shelley observes how Sharon’s hands were tightly clenched around the wheel, allowing the bone in her knuckles to pop out, forcing small veins in her neck slightly to show.
Shelley was fully aware of what her father was doing to her mother, tired of pretending that she didn’t know, like when she was that turd's age.
It pissed her off.
“Why don’t you leave him mom?” Shelley plainly asks, turning her head to stare out of the passenger window, to prevent her mother from seeing the tears that started to sting the corner of her eyes.
The look on Sharon’s face quickly fell as she looked over at her daughter. This was the first time that Sharon truly saw Shelley, without it being forced or a life altering situation. The young girl had taken Randy’s heavy set eyebrows and strong jaw, while carrying her thin mousy hair.
Shelley’s silver braces and headgear really pulled away from her daughter's long slim nose, and how the apples of her cheeks framed her face. There were two shining little things apart from Shelley’s star-stickered ears and star pimple covers that Sharon still couldn’t bring herself to look at.
“Because I love him,” Sharon responded softly, returning her eyes to the road.
Shelley turned her gaze to stare closely at her mother. The bruise on her mother's cheek was swollen, her arm still tightly holding her side as she drived, which brought attention to the dark heavy circles at the bottom of her mom’s hazel blue eyes.
There was a stressor that drained the life out of her mother, but just like her existence, Sharon still struggled to acknowledge and accept it.
The phone continued to vibrate before Sharon finally picked it up.
“Shaaaron?” Randy pathetically cries into the car’s bluetooth microphone.
“We’re on our way back Randy,” Sharon reluctantly replies after a beat of silence, glancing over at her daughter, finally meeting Shelley’s ice blue eyes that reminded her so deeply of the man on the phone.
Shelley angrily looks away and huffs, aggressively wiping her eyes, pulling her phone and earbuds out, aggressively shoving the buds in.
Maybe she did it to purposefully ignore her mother, or maybe to numb the betrayed feeling the teen had for trusting her mother’s judgment again, even after that life altering moment in the parking lot.
Sharon didn’t say anything this time about her daughter's poor attitude, when it was so clear she was the reason why.
The two drove back to the hotel in another tense silence, both contemplating how badly they wanted the other to know they didn’t want the trip to end soon. There was always next spring break.