Perfect Day
I can’t believe it.
I, Killie Rose McMicheal, am ecstatic to be school shopping for my senior year of highschool. Not only am I now a licensed driver and the owner of a brand new BMW, but I have a boyfriend for the first time in my school career and he adores me.
Literally overnight, I went from wallflower to most popular girl in school when I stood up to Brook Colms, Jaguar High’s resident mean girl, in our Junior year.
It still feels surreal. Just last year, I was practically invisible, keeping my head down, avoiding drama, and maintaining my crown as ‘Queen of minding my business’. Which I am damn good at. It worked for me until it didn’t.
Brook had it out for me, not because of anything I did, but apparently because Derrick James liked me, and everyone knew it—except me, of course. I’d been too busy with my hobbies and hanging out with my best friend, Angel Franklin, to notice him stalking me down the halls.
Well, Brook noticed.
Angel and I had been each other’s day one’s for the past seven years, and we were okay with the fact that it was us teobagainst the world. That is, until Brook spread that nasty rumor about us being more than friends. Yeah, that didn’t sit well with me. So, I did what any self-respecting girl would do—I slapped her ass into next year, and then made her apologize to me and Angel in front of the whole school. Yeah, I may have been a wallflower, but I had my limits.
After that, everything changed. Derrick asked me out—finally—and of course, I said yes. Who wouldn’t? Now, instead of being the invisible girl in the corner, I was the girl everyone noticed. The girl who stood up to Brook.
I may have been a bit of a nerd, but I was always a fortunate girl. Both my parents were world renowned neurosurgeons and had amassed a small fortune to take care of their only daughter. Me, duh.
I felt like Elle Woods, from Legally Blonde, as Angel and I walked out of the mall with our arms full of the new school year clothes. I felt like I had the world in my hands. Who could ruin my perfect day?
“No one…That’s who. I am having the best day of my life!” I squealed, holding Angel’s hand, while we juggled our shopping.
“I am so grateful this is my life. I have the best parents ever, a super hot, quarter-back boyfriend, the best friend a girl could ever ask for…oh and I stood up to my bully and shut her ass down!” Angel laughed at the last part. She was a lover, not a fighter, but she could definitely talk her fair amount of shit.
“Let’s be honest, that bitch had it coming for years. She was a terror. If it wasn’t you, it was going to be someone else.” Angel said, re-gripping her heavy bags and turning slightly to grab her door handle and let herself in the car, throwing all her bags into the backseat.
“Yea, but I’m glad as hell it was me!” I said as I slid into the driver's seat of my shiny new black beamer. I pulled out of the parking space and cranked up the music, feeling the breeze through the open windows. The whole world felt like it was at my fingertips, like nothing could go wrong.
“I have to admit, you are pretty lucky. Donna and Jack are literally the best people ever. I hope they get you Hamilton tickets for your birthday like you asked. It would be amazing to go, just the two of us. Can you imagine? Front row seats, just us. It would be so perfect.” Angel said as she reclined in the passenger seat and turned the AC on as headed to drop her off at home. I grinned, the thought of seeing Hamilton live sent a thrill through me. Literally my fave.
I couldn’t help but feel like everything was falling into place. Everything I wanted, I had. My parents, my boyfriend, my best friend—it was all perfect. But the thing about life? Perfect doesn’t always last. She’s obviously not a Virgo.
“Killie-Rose McMichael that had better be you. I asked you to be home thirty minutes ago.” Donna McMichael’s voice sounded as soon as I made it through the front door of our country estate home.
“Sorry mom, I got caught up with Angel. I didn’t make you guys late, did I?” I couldn’t help eyeing her up and down, the moment I saw her.
“Damn Donna, no wonder my dad is still madly in love after twenty five years. You look hot mom.” Donna rolled her eyes, yet blushed at my compliment. She was literally the cutest human to ever exist. I stan her more than anyone.
“Oh stop. Jack, let’s go before we are late and I re-think punishing our daughter.” Donna blew me a kiss and grabbed her clutch off the table in the foyer.
I looked just like her, besides my coffee with a dash of cream complexion and my dad’s dark hair color and tight curls. Thank goodness my mom is hot. I mean Jack ain’t too shabby, but he didn’t pull my mom with his looks. She always said it was his stunning intellect and his fat bank account. Whatever it was, I’m just glad to be theirs.
“Don’t stay up too late waiting on us. We might be gone all night and maybe all morning depending on how much fun we have and if your father’s back holds out.” I laugh because I know my dad, he will definitely be feeling the pain when he wakes up. Donna can dance, and Jack… cannot. Although not for lack of trying but my father has no rhythm.
Donna and I turned from our mirth to stare at my father Jack McMichael as he descended the staircase looking dapper in his two piece black suit that matched my mothers black ball gown. It was like watching your daughter come down the stairs in her prom gown type of moment. I was so proud of my normal flip-flop and floral shorts wearing father. He cleaned up nicely.
“Happy Anniversary you guys. Have a blast and cut loose dad! Mom deserves it.” I hip bumped him while he rustled my curls before heading out the door after his already hot-tempered wife. Not only was it their anniversary, but Donna was winning some kind of prestigious award and she did not want to be late. Yea, she’s that bish!
“I’ll do whatever she wants me to tonight. She definitely deserves it. Best behavior, Kill Bill. Love you kiddo.” Jack left through the open door and I watched as my world drove away. I love those crazy kids.
I waited until the tail lights disappeared down the long driveway before I closed and bolted the door shut and entered the security code. After making sure I was secure, I grabbed a few wine coolers, my popcorn and got ready for a horror movie marathon. I made it to the third Nightmare on Elm street before the wine coolers started to kick in, accelerating my postprandial narcolepsy. Or in other words, the -itis, or food coma, commonly known in my melanted half’s community.
I stayed up as long as I could waiting for my parents to come back, but true to their word, they didn't make it home, so I assumed they must have gotten a hotel for the night.
By the time I realized I’d fallen asleep, the sun was peeking through the window and I was squinting to keep it from blinding me. I sat up and felt the popcorn I’d been eating hours ago fall from my hair and into my lap as I looked around the house.
Everything looked normal, nothing was out of place, but I couldn’t explain the gut-wrenching twisting feeling deep inside me.
My stomach churns, and my head pounds so intensely that I drop to the floor, clutching at my temples, screaming into the silence. The pain passes as quickly as it came, but I’m left trembling, a knot of fear winding tighter in my chest.
“Mom? Dad?” I call out, my voice shaky as I make my way upstairs. They should’ve heard me. They should’ve come running when they heard me scream. But the house is silent. Too silent.
As I reach the top of the stairs, the air around me shifts—colder, heavier, like something dark is waiting for me. My hand trembles as I push open their bedroom door. The slurping sound hits me first. Wet. Gurgling. Almost like someone sipping soup. Relief floods through me. Mom must be up, having her morning coffee or something.
But then I see them.
My mother—my beautiful, vibrant mother—lying on the bed, twisted at a grotesque angle, her mouth hanging open in a silent scream. And him. A man—no, a monster—with long dark hair, pale skin, and claw-like fingers. He’s bent over her, slurping blood from her stomach like it’s a meal.
I freeze, my legs rooted to the floor, my breath trapped in my lungs. I want to scream, but nothing comes out. Something cold brushes against my leg, and I glance down.
Dad.
He’s lying there, his head split open, blood and brain matter pooling around him. My vision blurs as a scream finally rips from my throat, raw and piercing.
The monster doesn’t flinch, doesn’t stop. But then, slowly, he stands, straightening to his full height. I can’t move. I can’t breathe. He turns toward me, his red eyes locking onto mine, blood dripping from his fangs, and he smiles. At that moment, I know he’s not just a monster. He’s beautiful. Horrifically, terrifyingly beautiful. His voice fills my head, even though his mouth is still full of my mother.
‘Finally, I found you…’
I scream again, louder this time, but it feels like the world is crumbling beneath me. Everything goes black.
I wake up to the sound of my own screams, fighting to get the blanket off my head. My chest heaved as I tried to catch my breath, realizing I’d fallen asleep with the TV still on and popcorn in my mouth—not in my hair, thankfully. I spit out the remnants and reached for my phone. The screen read 2:32 a.m.
“Ugh, it was just a dream,” I muttered, leaning forward to rest my head in my hands. I tried to remember the man from the nightmare—the one making a meal of my mother—but no matter how hard I focused, his face stayed blurry, just out of reach. It had felt so real. Too real.
A sharp knock at the door jolted me upright. My head spun, and the uneasy feeling from the dream came flooding back, my pulse quickening.
Who would be knocking at this ungodly hour?
I froze, my eyes darting to the window. There was a car in the driveway, but my parents didn’t need to knock. My stomach twisted with dread as I crept closer to the front door, every step heavy with the growing certainty that something was very, very wrong.
“Who is it?” I called, my voice shaky.
“Killie? Killie-Rose McMichael? This is the police. Could you open the door? We need to have a chat with you,” a woman’s voice answered.
The police? My heart raced faster, my mind reeling. What could they possibly want with me at this hour? I hesitated before unlocking the door and pulling it open just a crack.
Two officers stood on the porch. The female officer, blonde like my mom, had soft brown eyes, but her expression was serious. The man next to her looked like he was permanently stuck in a bad mood, his face etched with a deep frown. I didn’t want them to be here. My hands were sweating and I felt dizzy staring at them while trying to gather my thoughts.
“H-how can I help you, officers?” I stammered, trying to keep my voice steady, but the growing sense of dread made it impossible to stay calm.
The female officer spoke first, her tone kind but firm. “May we come inside? This isn’t a conversation for the front door.” Oh fuck.
I nodded mutely, stepping aside to let them in. My heart pounded in my ears as they entered, and the cool air from outside followed them into the house, making everything feel too quiet, too still.
“I’m Officer Amelia Travis, and this is Officer Donovan Bentley. We’re with the homicide division. Can we ask you a few questions?” she said.
Did she just say homicide? My world tilted. Where were my mom and dad? Why weren’t they home? What did the police want with me?
“H-homicide?” The word felt foreign on my tongue. “Like… murder?”
The male officer stepped forward, his voice cold and professional. “Your parents are Jack and Donna McMichael, correct?”
I felt the blood drain from my face. Tears welled up in my eyes, but I fought to hold them back.
“A-are my parents dead?” The words came out in a whisper, barely audible. It was the only question that mattered now. I needed to hear the truth, even though I already knew.
“I’m afraid they are, Killie.” Officer Bentley didn’t sugarcoat it, his tone still flat. “We don’t have many specifics yet. No leads, no suspects. Just two bodies who happen to be two of the most highly regarded brain surgeons in the country. Do you know if your parents had any enemies? Anyone who might have wanted to hurt them?”
The room spun. Enemies? My parents? They were loved by everyone. Who would want to kill them?
“A-am I a suspect?” I asked, my voice cracking as tears spilled down my face.
Officer Travis had been glancing around the room, stopped her snooping and stared at me with blank lifeless eyes. She didn’t open her mouth and speak but I could feel her saying silently:
‘You aren’t a suspect, but you are the reason they are dead.’
“W-what did you say to me?” I demanded, my voice shaking. I could feel their eyes on me, both of them watching me like I was losing it.
“Me?” She asked and pointed to herself as I stood up, moving away from them.
“How… How did they die? They were at a crowded event… right? ” Neither of them answered right away, and in the silence, I could feel my entire world falling apart around me.
If anyone had told me that the happiest night of my parents’ lives would also be the night that ripped my perfect world apart, I would’ve called them a liar.
But I would’ve been wrong.
