Changes

A few weeks had passed when Amie began to see the differences. The television is always left on regardless of the time of day. Though this time it stayed on one channel. The program felt like designed arguments about hatred disguised as concern. In the house a new person was here. The mother Amie knew disappeared.

"Don't you dare change the channel."

Maybe it was the TV. It was the last thing Dad could handle. 

"I'm going to the movies. Take care of your mother."

A quick trip to the movie theater shouldn't require a suitcase. He left with an old-fashioned bulky black colored suitcase. That was days ago.

Sunny started chanting ever since.

"Quinn is our hero. He will save us. Quinn, Quinn, Quinn."

Her face is like an ugly painting. The crowsfeet and freckles display her age. She reads inane headlines from fake news sites. All the while refusing to read the article itself.  An uncanny smile appeared on Sunny's face. Her usual malnourished figure looked more skeletal. She was happy. The new morning routine was odd, but she seemed joyful. On a normal day, she started by rambling about insecurities: hair, skin, body. These concerns were of her own worry. Her husband did not care about the natural occurrences of middle age. Sunny, however differed. Before these complaints were directed at him. Now all blame falls on her. Until, she found Quinn.

Sunny was always a person who had a colder demeanor. Yet, her new interest made her kinder. Her fascination with the current politician split her into two sides- work and worship. At the store, she maintained a professional attitude. In private, her lust for hatred worsened. Lately, Sunny went to work alone. Amie was glad to finally have a day off, but Monday turned to Saturday. She wondered how was she able to work alone by herself. The week after, she had heard from a customer that the store had been closed for seven days. 

"Why did you close the store?"

"The Lord needs me."

Amie fell to her knees. The pain of seeing her mother change was too much. Sunny looked up at the ceiling, and all around the room. Anything to avoid eye contact. She looked like a guilty toddler. Proud, but scared of an authority figure. The decrepit workaholic mother she knew was gone.