Dream Fighter
Such things were not cheap, she sighed heavily, and not even being the daughter of the proprietor could solve that. Perhaps that was the point, Molly thought; perhaps if such things were cheap, then people wouldn't value them.
"Have you made up your mind, dear?" her mother asked from behind the counter, busying herself with the till.
Molly shrugged in as non-committal a fashion as was possible.
"Not yet," she murmured, grateful at last for the absence of others, that her mother had deigned to let her pick something out away from the noise and crowds of the store's usual customers.
Ever since that event, the hordes of people gathering in the store, fighting over discounts, ever since the thing that usurped her mother and taken her place, threatened Molly's life, she had found herself increasingly uncomfortable around crowds.
That was part of why this was difficult, or maybe it was part of the response as to why it had been difficult, one of the two. Her fingertips glided above the cabinet, careful not to touch the glass, knowing that she would be stuck with the chore of cleaning them if she did, and her eyes met the glow of the precious stones within, amber, lapis lazuli to name but a few.
She had gone with Melvin and his family to the theatre when that dinosaur movie had come out, the one with the bug trapped in amber from which they had been able to clone dinosaurs.
She hadn't really been clear on the how or why of all that, but she remembered sitting outside with Melvin after they had got back home, both eating their leftover popcorn and talking excitedly about the movie.
Unbidden, a smile crossed her lips. These were the things she would look back on when older, she thought. Perhaps.
Still, better them than the horrifying sight of the thing slewing off its disguise as her mother, of the barbed and withered limbs, the mouth far wider than any human's, the eyes far darker.
Although her mother remembered absolutely none of what had happened, she still did, and though it didn't make sense to her, she knew that, somehow, her best friend, Serena, had been the solution to the situation. Her memory was hazy, but she could remember Serena's voice, and she recalled catching a glimpse of her before she had passed out completely.
The newspapers the following day had reported that the creature had been stopped by a vigilante, a young girl in a sailor suit named Sailor Moon. There had to be a connexion there, something between Serena's voice and the appearance of that vigilante.
Not, of course, that she was suggesting that Serena was Sailor Moon, that would be ridiculous, they had been best friends since they were toddlers, and Serena was not the kind of person to take up a life of fighting crime.
There were both only 14, as well, she thought, pausing over a ring with a shimmering stone of blue speckled with gold, looking down at the glass, catching sight of her own reflection. 14-year-olds did not fight crime, that was absurd.
"Maybe this one?" she pointed downwards at the ring.
Her mother jotted down something with a pencil, and came over, looking down at the ring her daughter had selected.
"Oh, that's a lovely choice, Molly, dear," she announced. "Serena is lucky to have a friend like you so willing to spoil her."
She remembered her best friend's voice, the accusation in her tone. She must have been shouting at the monster, Molly realised; it must have been her that summoned Sailor Moon.
"I don't know," she said aloud, partly in response to her mother, partly to her own thoughts. "I kind of think it's me that's lucky to have a friend like Serena."
Smiling, her mother opened up the glass cabinet to retrieve the ring, and for a moment both their faces were warped, distorted by the movement.
A chill ran down her spine.
If there were more monsters like the one that had impersonated her mother, and her best friend did have some kind of connexion with the vigilante that had saved them all, she sure hoped Serena remained on Sailor Moon's good side.