Missing: One White Female

                Her eyes felt like they were on fire. Who knew that being this lonely would make her eyes react? She'd been watching television all day and now she understood just how bad lonely was supposed to feel.  She guessed she'd really done it this time, what with how the woman she loved just dropped everything and left her sitting there on her couch. What had she said? 'When Hell gets a make-over and freezes over?' That sounded about right. Frannie always was a bit on the dramatic side. But that's what she got for being with someone who wrote dramas for a living. She knew Frannie'd be back. She always came back. Every time she left, she used that same line. That apocalyptic line that rang in her ears when her Frannie would shout it at her and slam the door… She'd come back. She always did.
So, here she'd sit and wait on Frannie to change her mind like she always did. But after a few days, she was getting skeptical. After a week, she began to get confused. Shouldn't Frannie be back by now? Maybe she was just out shopping. Her Frannie did so love to shop. Maybe she was just visiting her parents. Maybe she just wanted something to read… Or maybe Frannie was serious this time. She'd eaten, drank, and sat for a week on end and she'd heard nothing from her wife. She'd call later. Frannie always had her phone on her. She was sure that it was a misunderstanding that Frannie would come back to her as soon as things were worked out. All she had to do was call…
She picked up her phone and dialed the most familiar number to her (minus her mother's) and waited for it to ring. And ring. And ring… Where was Frannie? She always had her phone on! Always! There was something going on. She had to find out what happened to her Frannie and fast. She called everyone she could think of that Frannie might be with and no answer at any of them.  Perhaps she should go looking. Maybe she'd find her wife in the exact place she should be. Maybe she'd walk out the door and there she'd be, missing her and happy to see her. She couldn't help but think that something might be out of place about this whole thing. Something felt wrong. Even when her Frannie'd been angry at her before, she'd never stayed gone this long. Even at her angriest, she'd come back four hours later and the make-up process was phenomenal. What could be going on here?
She walked to her car and slid in, when she saw it. It was coming down the sidewalk towards their home and it didn't look happy. It never looked happy where she was concerned. It hadn't been happy the whole six years she and Frannie had been together. 'It' was Frannie's mother, a real non-graceful gargoyle of a woman who always called her 'my daughter's shameful acquaintance' since they'd been married. She'd never found her way into the woman's good (or even  tolerated) graces and she didn't see any acceptance or tolerance now. As It was storming towards her, she got out of the car and locked the doors, leaning against the car.
"Hello, Mrs. Shoreman. How are you today?"
"Don't you hello me, young lady! Where the hell is my Francis?"
She stiffened slightly. "You don't know where Frannie is either?"
The gargoyle's face shifted. "No. I don't. She called me a week ago when she left here and told me she'd come home… I waited all week for her and nothing. So where is she, harlot?"
She shifted her hair and sighed. "I don't know either, Mrs. Shoreman. I've waited too."
The gargoyle stomped to the door of her home and slammed her elderly hand against it as though she were trying to enter. "I knew I shouldn't have let her leave home! I knew I should have made her marry that Goldman boy that liked her! You, you did this to me!" The old woman rounded on her, wrinkled finger pointed. "You lost me my Francis! She's run off and it's all your fault!"
She could have been mad at the old biddy, but really she knew that deep down the woman was utterly worried for her daughter. She was worried about Frannie too. She wished she knew what was going on. But then again, so did the old woman. She tried not to be angry with Frannie's mother… she'd be angry too if her daughter went missing. She'd never have daughters and that was beside the point at this particular moment, but she wasn't one to split hairs. She sighed and walked over to sit on their front steps and light a cigarette. "Ma'am, I just want her home. Not now, please. Can we wait until we have her home and safe before falling apart?"
It seemed an eternity to her before the old woman slowly let her hand fall to her side and plodded slowly down to sit next to her on the step, reaching over to steal  a menthol. After taking her good lighter (with the fairy on) to light the cigarette, the old woman blew out a lungful of smoke and nodded. "Agreed. Until we find Francis, truce. After that, you're fair game goy-girl."
"Yes, ma'am. Agreed."