Or, at least, it felt like the world collapsed, but Kay didn't have any time to lucidly assess the situation, because by the time she could actually think coherent thoughts again, she had found herself standing upright in a small, depressing cottage-type home whose decorating motif seemed to consist mainly of chickens, flags, and angel statues.
The colors all around her were faded, muted, like the way they usually look in a flashback-to-the-distant-past scene in a movie. Without even trying, Kay was absolutely certain that her hand would go right through anything she tried to touch or pick up. Kay couldn't decide if she felt like she herself was a ghost, or if the entire world she currently inhabited had become ghostly and she was the only real thing in it. Or, maybe there wasn't any difference between the two positions; perhaps that's what it feels like when you are a ghost.
At any rate Kay didn't have too much time with which to meditate on the finer points of metaphysics, because a girl who looked like a younger version of her mother (with a really, really stupid haircut) and carrying a battered old suitcase stormed into what seemed to be the main living space from a side room across from Kay, followed closely by another girl clearly identical to her, and another, older woman whom Kay realized with a peculiar shock must be the grandmother she never knew.
"Grace, dear," the woman pleaded, "you're not really serious about this."
"I have never been so serious about anything in my entire life, Mother," the girl referred to as Grace spat back with a level of venom that made Kay jump back a little. "I just can't take it any more! Evil this, evil that, praying to ward off 'evil forces' all the time, we have no lives—you've never even allowed us to go to school with everybody else!"
"It was too dangerous, Grace, you know that," the woman maintained. "The Standish women have always been a target for the forces of evil, and if they got to either of you out there, there wouldn't be enough goodness to ward them off. But, Grace, this is your home, and—"
"Oh, why are you even pretending to care, Mother?" Grace demanded, cutting the older woman off. "It's not like you give a damn what happens to me." Kay was faintly amused, despite being in an extreme state of shock, to observe that both of the other women's jaws dropped in shock, obviously mortified that Grace would use the 'd' word.
"Now, Grace, you know perfectly well that's not true…"
Grace laughed bitterly. "Oh, yeah? Anybody could tell that you always loved perfect, saintly little Faith more!"
"I love both of you equally," the mother asserted weakly, while Faith started moaning miserably. "It's all my fault," she muttered. "If I wasn't here, you two wouldn't be having this fight."
Grace effortlessly achieved an expression of absolute disgust. "Oh, just shut up, Faith, and cut out the poor little martyr routine. You make me sick."
The elder Standish woman's expression shifted from kindly concern to harsh anger. "You will not speak to your sister that way, Grace, especially when she's so good, so thoughtful, so—"
"So better than me," Grace finished. "Yeah, not only is she an all-around better person, but her premonitions are stronger, too. I know that. But that's fine, I've finally stopped caring whether or not you love me. I'm eighteen now, and I can do whatever I want. And I want out of here!"
"Now, now, you're just upset, sit down and have a bite, and you'll feel all better soon," Grace's mother cooed soothingly, changing tactics. "I baked a tomato soup cake," she added, as if she were offering her daughter an irresistible enticement to stay home.
Grace suddenly became absolutely livid, like she was only a breath away from exploding in a true, Carrie-like fashion. "I don't. Want. A. Stupid. Tomato. Soup. Cake," she seethed. "We always have tomato soup cake, on birthdays, holidays, and most days in between, too. Nobody else ever has this junk, they eat chocolate cake, or cherry pie, or doughnuts, or anything else. Can't we for once in our freakish lives just live like normal people?! I hope to God that I never see another tomato soup cake as long as I live!"
The others were too shocked for a moment to say anything, though eventually Faith quietly offered, "I like tomato soup cake."
Grace narrowed her eyes as she looked at her sister. "You would," she replied with dismissive scorn, and started to turn to leave.
Faith got a faraway look in her eyes, tottered a bit, looked woozy, and grabbed her sister's arm frantically. "Please, wait!" she pleaded, panic evident in her tone. "I sense evil! You can't leave now, Grace, or else it'll go after you!"
Unmoved, Grace fiercely tore her arm away from her sister's grasp. "Oh, give me a break! I'm tired of sitting around here, with no friends, and of being such a goody-goody. I'm going to learn how to actually use my powers so that I can take care of myself and maybe even have some fun once in a while. Goodbye, and don't waste your time looking for me, because it won't do you any good: I'm not coming back."
Clearly not intending to wait around for either of them to muster up another objection, Grace trounced out through the front door, slamming it noisily and leaving her sister and mother beside themselves with distress.
*****
As soon as Grace had made her exit, everything around Kay froze, as still and lifeless as if someone had pushed the "pause" button on a VCR, and the teen struggled furiously to process the information overload she'd just experienced. Whatever it was that she had been expecting, it certainly hadn't been that. No, Kay had always assumed that her mother had been a Charity as a girl, or, at the very worst, a Jessica, but this…
"No," she voiced out loud, perfectly aware that there was nobody around to hear her. "This just isn't possible. It's, like, breaking the natural laws of the universe! My mom being rude, sarcastic, sullen, and not wanting tomato soup cake…I could actually relate to someone like that! I've gotta be missing something."
Try as she might, though, she couldn't deny what she had witnessed with her own eyes. Apparently, this whole trip down memory lane was going to be a great deal more revealing than she'd thought possible. Now more eager than ever to see what else she could discover about her mother, she shouted out, "Alright, then, let me see what happened to her next!"