movement signaling we have alerted anything or that there is anything to alert. Still, something just doesn’t sit right with any of it. Maybe I am too paranoid.
“So..?” I hear Genny’s annoyed voice behind me. She has gone from sullen to full frustration while she waited. I know she is looking for someone to be angry with about what happened to the animals. I’m just the lucky one to be near her.
“Just stay close,” I say to her, with hopes that she will listen; high, sinking hopes.
My knees almost shake as we enter the store. The little brass bell that was once the owners’ idea of security softly chimes refusing any attempts to enter unnoticed. As our eyes adjust, the scene before us is depressing in a different manner. Litter from discarded items is strewn about, layering the once pristine shop with trash. Shelves are knocked askew, if not completely turned over, spilling what they once held around them. Registers are broken and smashed, robbed of their contents as if cash holds any value now. I can only hope that the owners never had to see their “baby” in such a disarray.
“So what are we looking for?” I ask, as if finding anything in this place will be possible.
Genny grumbles something under her breath and heads off into what once served as the feminine hygiene section. Good to know that we can stake monsters in the head but we still can’t hold a conversation about your period, Genny girl. I smile with the thought. No matter how things change, some things will always be the same.
Ginjer strolls along the destruction, smiling like she is cruising a designer shop. Her fingertips tap along the items left on the shelves as she tilts her head side-to-side comparing items before tossing them into her purse. A part of me has to wonder what freedom she is now enjoying with society’s rules thrown to the wind. Bless her heart…
I leave Ginjer to her afternoon clepto-fest to check on Genny. The store being small and a basic rectangle makes it easy to keep the whole view in sight. There are no corners to hide around and with most of the shelves being knocked down, it is even easier to spot any dangers. Unless something is crawling on its belly towards you, there is really no risk of being ambushed. The thought pulls my head down to my feet with mental panic and I have to laugh at my foolishness. Just call me the Queen of Paranoia Land.
“Find everything?” Genny jumps with my voice and turns hostel eyes to me.
“Really, Mom?” She quickly shoves the remaining boxes of products into her bag while glaring at me. The pretty shade of pink she is turning robs her of the full effect of her annoyance. Any other day I would have had a little fun teasing her about her “purchases”, but with her anxiety already a full ten on the scale, I give her a little breathing room.
“You ready?” Ginjer stands behind me with a smile that a lipstick company would covet. “Let’s go.”
Her eyes are a little too wide. Her voice is a little too happy. My stomach just became a little too anxious.
I arch an eyebrow, asking for a hint or a clue for her behavior. Keeping her smile frozen on her face, she shakes her head with a subtle movement.
“Let’s go,” She repeats, a little more “happy” this time.
“I’m afraid I can’t let you do that.” With the sound of the male voice behind me, my stomach drops while my pulse rises.
I pivot to see every mother’s nightmare. The man holds my daughter with a one-arm embrace, pulling her backwards as he walks. Without a thought, I follow them just as he intended. Genny’s eyes are wide and pleading with me silently for any help, her feet slipping over the objects littering the ground and her legs shaking from fear. I am angry at myself for letting my guard down and allowing my daughter to fall target to danger. I in my naivety had thought this place safe while inside I had sensed something was wrong from the start.
“Sit,” He tells me, motioning with
“So..?” I hear Genny’s annoyed voice behind me. She has gone from sullen to full frustration while she waited. I know she is looking for someone to be angry with about what happened to the animals. I’m just the lucky one to be near her.
“Just stay close,” I say to her, with hopes that she will listen; high, sinking hopes.
My knees almost shake as we enter the store. The little brass bell that was once the owners’ idea of security softly chimes refusing any attempts to enter unnoticed. As our eyes adjust, the scene before us is depressing in a different manner. Litter from discarded items is strewn about, layering the once pristine shop with trash. Shelves are knocked askew, if not completely turned over, spilling what they once held around them. Registers are broken and smashed, robbed of their contents as if cash holds any value now. I can only hope that the owners never had to see their “baby” in such a disarray.
“So what are we looking for?” I ask, as if finding anything in this place will be possible.
Genny grumbles something under her breath and heads off into what once served as the feminine hygiene section. Good to know that we can stake monsters in the head but we still can’t hold a conversation about your period, Genny girl. I smile with the thought. No matter how things change, some things will always be the same.
Ginjer strolls along the destruction, smiling like she is cruising a designer shop. Her fingertips tap along the items left on the shelves as she tilts her head side-to-side comparing items before tossing them into her purse. A part of me has to wonder what freedom she is now enjoying with society’s rules thrown to the wind. Bless her heart…
I leave Ginjer to her afternoon clepto-fest to check on Genny. The store being small and a basic rectangle makes it easy to keep the whole view in sight. There are no corners to hide around and with most of the shelves being knocked down, it is even easier to spot any dangers. Unless something is crawling on its belly towards you, there is really no risk of being ambushed. The thought pulls my head down to my feet with mental panic and I have to laugh at my foolishness. Just call me the Queen of Paranoia Land.
“Find everything?” Genny jumps with my voice and turns hostel eyes to me.
“Really, Mom?” She quickly shoves the remaining boxes of products into her bag while glaring at me. The pretty shade of pink she is turning robs her of the full effect of her annoyance. Any other day I would have had a little fun teasing her about her “purchases”, but with her anxiety already a full ten on the scale, I give her a little breathing room.
“You ready?” Ginjer stands behind me with a smile that a lipstick company would covet. “Let’s go.”
Her eyes are a little too wide. Her voice is a little too happy. My stomach just became a little too anxious.
I arch an eyebrow, asking for a hint or a clue for her behavior. Keeping her smile frozen on her face, she shakes her head with a subtle movement.
“Let’s go,” She repeats, a little more “happy” this time.
“I’m afraid I can’t let you do that.” With the sound of the male voice behind me, my stomach drops while my pulse rises.
I pivot to see every mother’s nightmare. The man holds my daughter with a one-arm embrace, pulling her backwards as he walks. Without a thought, I follow them just as he intended. Genny’s eyes are wide and pleading with me silently for any help, her feet slipping over the objects littering the ground and her legs shaking from fear. I am angry at myself for letting my guard down and allowing my daughter to fall target to danger. I in my naivety had thought this place safe while inside I had sensed something was wrong from the start.
“Sit,” He tells me, motioning with
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