Girls of the Stars ♥︎ Mabel X Reader

一 ♥︎ She's Leaving Home

Everything seemed normal. As far as I'm aware, I was still twelve years old. I was on the same hardwood floor I passed out on. My iPod was beneath my armpit... and dead, but that was not new; that happened every other day.

I only wake up when something in my atmosphere changed. The only exception to this is when I consciously know about the change. My parents said I did this since I was an infant. 'They were making French toast,' I thought, inhaling deeply. This meant one thing. They are forcing me to wake up.

My parents typically allowed me wake up on my own. They thought it was necessary to learn the pros and cons of freedom at a young age. Forcing me to wake up meant two things: we were headed somewhere, or they suddenly became communists. I plugged in my iPod to charge and assumed the former.

Under that assumption, I knew they were in a rush, promoting me to wash up and get dressed as soon as possible. While doing so, I remembered that we were headed somewhere. My mother, a photographer, had an exposition somewhere in Oregon for about a week or so. I was too young to stay home, meaning I had to pack last night for a family road trip. At least I remember why I woke up on the floor of all places.

I walked into the kitchen with a full suitcase. There were three closed containers, each with two pieces of French toast. We were definitely in a hurry. I took a container and headed to the car.

The engine hummed as we drove down the freeway. It was still dark, and all three of us were finishing up the toast. Overall, the car ride was practically silent. I could only assume my parents were also tired. We never stopped to get coffee, yet my parents nearly fell asleep behind the wheel on multiple occasions.

I wondered why they would make such an effort to wake up so early. It was not like my mother was getting anywhere in the industry; this was her first exposition in four years. Even my father was starting to lose faith in her career. Why either of them still had faith remained a mystery.

It does not matter now, considering they can not even drive anymore. On the way to our hotel, some old maniac rammed his boxy red car into ours, sending us into a full spin, losing all direction. The car fell off a cliff and eventually stopped. It was a miracle that I was able to survive.

I, however, did not think it was a miracle. I was taking refuge in a beaten-up SUV in the middle of nowhere next to my dead parents.

In hindsight, I suppose it would have been rational to take what I deemed necessary and find somewhere safe to stay. I decided against it. I knew I couldn't leave my parents to rot in a broken car.

I decided to fix the car and find a proper place to say goodbye. Climbing out of the car, I was headed toward the passenger seat. Taking in my surroundings, I slowly opened the car door. My father's limp body toppled over me. His arms slumped over my shoulders while his head bobbed lifelessly. I did not want to believe it was him. Reluctantly, pushing my father's limp body onto the car seat, I strapped him in and went to watch in the glove compartment. I took about half an hour to find money to pay for my parents' funeral. Finding the map and car guides were another story.

It took forever, but as far as I am aware, the car can function for only a few hours before completely disassembling. According to the map,  there's a burial in a town marked Gravity Falls. The minute I got the engine running, I was headed toward the burial. Once I entered the town, I wasn't sure why, but the atmosphere seemed... different.

I drove a few feet into the town before I spotting the burial. There was a funeral home nearby. Luckily the car did not break down until I got out, my luggage still in one piece. As strange as this place seemed, I knew I had no other choice than to get used to it for a while.