Classic ✘ d.w [1]| ✓

[0.1] Momma Dearest

THEN

NORMA JEAN REYNOLDS was a blessing to the parents who never thought they would have children. Her father, who wasn't particularly fond of the name Norma, called her Normie, and from the youngest age, that was what everyone except her mother called her.

Like her mother, Normie was a ginger, and her father would often be found taking pictures of the little girl as she discovered the world around her. He would tell her his favorite picture was the one with her beside her mother, both giggling, red curls bouncing, green eyes filled with joy and mirth.

It wasn't that way now. Mother had been murdered, her heart ripped out her chest, the coroner's report said. And dad had been overcome with grief, he drank and cried and when he looked at her, she knew he was thinking of how much she looked like her mother. She was forever a reminder of what he had lost.

A few weeks later, the world turned again. Two men, FBI, began to ask some weird questions. She suspected they weren't who they said they were. But who was she to know?

Turns out, that her father had the same suspicions. He confronted them, told them that he would rat them out to the police if they didn't tell him what the hell was going on.

The fake FBI agents came clean and told them that they were hunters and that something that wasn't human had killed her mother.

"No, you're lying! This is a cruel fucking joke! What the fuck do you think you're trying to get past me here?" Her father had shouted.

The men stayed silent. Normie walked quietly to the couch and gently sat down next to her father. "Dad?" She said placing her hand on his arm.

"Yeah, Darlin?"

"I read Mom's autopsy report." The twelve-year-old girl said and gulped. "I know you did too, dad. What kind of person can rip a heart clean through a human body with just their hand, Dad?"

He sighed and for a moment, and his loss and grief made him look older than he really was. "I don't- I don't know darlin."

"Whatever killed mom, wasn't human. I think you know that Dad." She turned to the strangers in her living room. "I'm Norma Jean Reynolds, but everyone calls me Normie. If you can get whatever killed my mom, I'd appreciate that."

The shorter man laughed, and the African American man grinned. "I like you, girl! You got spunk! I'm Bobby and this Rufus," They shook hands.

Her father smiled at his daughter's spunk. She was going to be a real heartbreaker when she was older.

"Do you guys want a beer?"
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She sat on the porch swing, looking at pictures of her mother. She looked like a classic 1950's doll. She was beautiful, kind, and everything Normie wanted to be when she was older. She twirls her own red curly hair around her finger, seeing the similarity to her mother's.

A weight presses against the other side of the porch swing, and when she looks at the person sitting next to her, she realizes it's Bobby, looking at the picture in her hand.

"That your Ma?"

She sighs fondly." Yeah. Didn't deserve to die like that. She was the kindest person I ever knew." She scoffed. "Dad's a mess."

His eyes softened for a minute. "Kid, it's not going to be pretty, but the weight gets easier over time."

"I hope so."

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His daughter sat on the porch looking at photos, with the other man, Bobby, while he talked to Rufus.

"I want you to train me."

"No."

"There's stuff out there. I don't know the half of it. My wife is dead cause of this shit. There's no going back now." He looks down at his hands. "I can't unlearn all this." He spoke in a quieter voice. "I need to know how to protect her." He said looking at the smiling twelve-year-old chattering away to Bobby. "She's the only good thing I got left."

"Fine. I'll teach you what you need to know to become a hunter. But you better goddamn listen to me. That girl out there? She's not going on hunts anytime soon. This is not an ideal childhood. Preserve what she has left."

He nodded.
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That summer, Bobby, and Rufus gave them a crash course in hunting. Dad was an army man, so he already had some self-defense knowledge, while she had even less.

They worked hard, and a year and a half later, and her Dad began to go on hunts, as Normie worked on knowledge and research and her school work as she just entered high school.

That afternoon, when her father who had taken to fixing cars in his spare time at Bobby's junkyard was working on a fixer upper, she asked him if he wanted to spar.

He looked at her and raised his eyebrows.

To give him credit, she was dressed in boots, makeup that made her look like her mother, (usual for her nowadays) and plaid dress.

"Come on Dad! What if I'm in a situation where I need to fight in this attire! Come on Dad!"

He sighed. "Okay darlin'"

They walked outside to an empty field and as quick as a snake Normie launched at her father. He barely had time to catch one punch to the face as he didn't catch the one that burrowed into his abdomen. He twisted her wrist, but she broke his hold and kneed him in the stomach. He knocked her legs out from under her.

As she fell, she grasped his knee and hit it the back of it hard, causing him to fall too. He tried to grasp her foot, but her high heel crushed his hand and he gasped as she quickly put her boot on the back of his head and held his arm in a hold.

"Damn. I underestimated you in high heels."

She laughed as she helped him up. "If I'm fighting, why not look good too?"

His face went soft at her quip. "Follow me." He said as he leads her through the cars to a small garage.

"After your mother died, I couldn't get rid of it. I was hoping that maybe I'd be able to restore it. As he lifted the cover sheet, she could see the beat up frame of what was a Classic Mustang.

"Your mother called it Charlie."
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Chapter One is finished
[EDITED 11/09/2017]