Happy Family

I wake up as always in my comfortably soft bed. I get up and brush my perfectly soft and long hair. My walk-in closet is perfectly color coded and full of perfectly fashionable outfits. My teeth are pearly white and my makeup is flawlessly done. I go downstairs and eat my already made and still hot breakfast in the empty kitchen. It tastes delicious and I don’t have to worry about cleaning up; Mom will do it anyway. She won't. She can't. Outside the sun is shining and the blue is a gorgeous, endless shade of blue. At school I get effortlessly good grades and can talk all about how great I am without anyone calling me conceited or having an inflated ego. Fraud. In short I am perfect and so is my life. Tell the truth. Shut up. Sorry about that. Where was I? Oh, yes! Next I walk home and saw this lovely parrot. Stop lying. Oh, silly me, that was a raven not a parrot. It had such a lovely song didn’t it. It was screaming. I reach home again. My perfect house is spotless as always. I really do have the perfect life. Upstairs the water runs. Silly Mother must be taking a bath. There she is in the tub. 

“You’re so silly” I say, turning off the water and lifting her up. “You’ll get colder like that.” Her limp body hangs from my arms. 

“Now go sit with Dad.” I bring her to the living room. Dad is leaking out red liquid. Blood. That can’t be right. It is. I turn around and Mom is leaking, too. A putrid odor fills the room. My perfectly white couch is splattered red now. My kitchen is piled high with dishes and flies buzzing around it. A bloody knife is in my hand. That wasn’t supposed to happen. You did this. No. This is the truth. No, this is a nightmare. This is reality, now live with it.