Maya set her coffee down and stared at the mess on her kitchen floor, running down the list of cleaning supplies she would need to fix this. This was a really big inconvenience for a Tuesday. She was going to miss her yoga class. She had been doing so good too, everyone in her support group said so. She had been so close to making it a whole 100 days. But now she was back to zero. No days without incident. Sandy was going to gloat when she found out about this. Definitely. Ali would be sympathetic. She had an incident just last week, and Maya had helped her clean it up. Wrapping her hands around her pink coffee mug, Maya closed her eyes and let the warmth seep its way into her cold hands. Even with her eyes closed she could still see the mess, imprinted on her retinas. Standing up, Maya stretched her arms and her back tentacles. Her curtains were thick, no one had ever accidentally seen her when she let her tentacles loose in the morning. They needed to breathe, and have free reign, or else they sometimes got frustrated and slipped out of their hiding slots in her back….. wrapped themselves around one’s annoying non-alien neighbor, and turned them into red soup on one’s kitchen floor. Maya sighed, she could call Ali. Ali would help, then maybe she could still make it to the late yoga class this morning before she had to pick up the kids. A part of her really didn’t want to, she wanted to handle this alone. Maya needed alone time and so rarely got it. Maybe that was why her tentacles had lashed out and turned her neighbor Miriam into human soup on her kitchen floor. Setting her coffee down, Maya stretched and went to the closet, collecting her cleaning supplies. As she began scooping up parts of her neighbor, Miriam, off her floor into trash bags, Maya started rehearsing what she would tell the girls at the support group. The doorbell rang. Maya cursed under her breath, her tentacles retracting into her back. She hated having to put them away so soon in the morning. This was the one time of the day that was just hers and no one else’s. Now here someone was messing that all up for her. Taking off her yellow rubber gloves, Maya set them on her linoleum floor beside the halfway cleaned-up human soup. Closing the door to her kitchen Maya inspected herself briefly in the hallway mirror that hung above her key stand. No blood on her shirt or face. Glancing down she saw a tiny spec of red on her pants but that was ok, it was hardly noticeable. The doorbell rang again, and Maya could feel her tentacles begging to come out in response to her frustration. No, stay put, please! The tentacles obeyed, grudgingly. Throwing open the front door, Maya plastered on her best, “I’m a polite suburban mom, but you have maybe just interrupted me during something important” face. It was Ali, she was carrying a basket, and three of the other moms, Janice, Bea, and Sandy from the support group were standing behind her. “Surprise! We brought you a little gift to celebrate your 100th day! A mimosa basket!” Dammit, why did Ali have to be so thoughtful? Maya sighed and opened her mouth to tell them, to admit her failure. That she was back down to zero days without incident. But then she looked at Sandy’s smug face, her perfect soccer mom disguise. Maya thought about how Sandy always talked about how perfect her kids, her house, her job, and her life was. Maya’s tentacles shifted a little in protest, they didn’t like it when they didn’t get attention and praise for slaughtering. You’ll get credit later, but not right now! Chill out! Really it would be selfish if Maya told them, they looked up to her, they needed to keep having someone to look up to, to know that they too could go long periods of time without “accidentally” letting their tentacles do something atrocious. “It’s been real tough girls, but totally worth it! Don’t worry I’m sure you’ll get there one day too Sandy.” Maya said shooting Sandy her best “fuck you” smile. “If you stick to it, a life of pacifism really is possible for us.” Maya watched the girls’ faces as she said this and felt glad that she hadn’t told them. All of their eyes sparkled with hope, all of them except Sandy. Her eyes were sparkling with “fuck you, you pretentious bitch.” Yes, not telling them had definitely been the right choice. “Let’s drink those mimosas on the porch, it’s such a lovely day,” Maya said stepping out onto the porch and closing the door behind her. They didn’t need to know about the mess on her kitchen floor.

Tell Me A Joke: A Sentient AI's Battle for Independence

Things Only I can See - And Other Concerns

Black Lives Matter

Read My Stories

Too Long; Didn't Read

Boost your HackerNoon story @ $159.99! 🚀

Alien-Mom Support Group

About Author

Comments

TOPICS

THIS ARTICLE WAS FEATURED IN

Related Stories

Untitled Story

An Instagram Worthy Shot

A Beginner's Guide for Alien Invaders

A Conversation at Area 42

Aliens: Dark Descent Revealed at Summer Game Fest

Aliens: Fireteam Arrives This Summer with Third-Person Co-op Shooter Gameplay

An Instagram Worthy Shot

A Beginner's Guide for Alien Invaders

A Conversation at Area 42

Aliens: Dark Descent Revealed at Summer Game Fest

Aliens: Fireteam Arrives This Summer with Third-Person Co-op Shooter Gameplay

Light-Mode

Classic

Newspaper

Dark-Mode

Neon Noir

Minty

HN StartUps