"MOM! We're going to be late!" I scream down the hall. She appears in a nice, lacing dress that had a bunched up trim on the edge. "A bit inappropriate for the archery, but ok." I answer. Her face seems to pale. "Wait, I'm suppose to shoot a weapon? At animals!?" I face palm. "NO! You shoot at a target! Jeez you're more blond than Rose Tyler!" Ah yes, my favorite show. Too bad they got rid of most of the people so the show got more drama. My mother goes back into her room and begins to change again. I scream slightly, stomping my foot and a loud clunk from the heel of my commando boots clicking against the white tile. From inside her room my mother calls out. "Remind me why I have to shoot, also?"

"It's called mother-daughter archery range, not daughter-who's-mother-doesn't-know-how-to-do-this range!" I snap, regretting instantly. It went silent for a minute then I heard my mom turn the knob of the door and the door creeks open, her head popping out. "I'm sorry.... I know I'm not very good at this kind of stuff, and I know I'm never around and you've had to raise yourself..." She'd changed into some jeans and a black jacket over a tank top. I glare at her, approving the outfit with a roll of my eyes and looking away, disapproving of this stupid conversation. I walk down the hall to her door as I speak:

"Maybe if you and dad had just sucked it up and got back together. Maybe if our family wasn't split apart, maybe if you knew the first thing on being a mother and not just a.... mindless guardian..... maybe if you could just read my mind you'd understand...." At this my mother's eyes seemed pained and her eyebrows furrow sadly. She stepped out and looks at me, almost on the verge of sympathetic tears. She wraps her thin, dainty arms around my strong shoulders, curling them around my neck. One hand cradles my head and the other one holds my back in place as she rubs my shoulder blades lightly. I could see my light brown hair falling over my shoulders and onto her back a bit. I pull away silently, holding back the tears I'm used to hiding. "We're.... going to be late..." I repeat and go out to the car.