"Mum!! Dad!! You remember what day it is today, right?!" Mia practically flew down the stairs, breathless with excitement.
Her dad paused mid-sip of his morning coffee, giving her a tired side-eye. "Oh… right. The museum."
"It's not just a museum, Dad." Mia corrected, crossing her arms with an exaggerated huff. "It's the biggest mythological exhibition in the entire country. They have a real dragon skull!"
Her mother snorted from the kitchen doorway. "It's not real, sweetheart."
"It's real enough," Mia said defensively, brushing her snow-white hair out of her face. "You promised we're going tonight."
"And we will," her father said, walking over and flicking her forehead gently. "Even though most fourteen-year-olds beg for concerts or malls. But no… mine wants dusty bones."
"They're historical bones," Mia muttered, but she couldn't stop smiling.
Her mother stepped forward and handed her a packed lunch before wrapping her in a tight, vanilla scented hug. "Have a good day, baby. I'll finish work early so we can all go."
"Promise?" Mia asked, squeezing her tightly.
"Promise," her mom whispered into her hair.
Her father ruffled her head. "And I'll bring the camera. So someone can record you crying in front of a fake dragon."
"I'm not going to cry!" Mia shoved him lightly, laughing. "Okay, maybe a little."
Her parents exchanged a soft look, full of so much love.
"Go on," her father said, pointing towards the door. "Before the bus leaves you behind."
Mia slung her backpack onto her shoulders. "See you later! Don't forget...dragon skull!"
"We won't!" her mom called as Mia opened the front door and skipped down the steps.
She waved at them from the street until she couldn't see them anymore, smiling so hard her cheeks hurt, completely unaware that this would be the last morning she ever waved at them.
-------
Mia could barely focus on school the entire day. The moment the last bell rang, she grabbed her bag and was seconds from bolting out the classroom door.
"Stop right there, Miss Mia."
Her teacher's voice froze her mid-step.
"Yes, Mrs. Miller?" Mia asked, impatience leaking into her tone. The sooner she got home, the sooner she could get ready for the museum.
"Are you forgetting what today is?"
Mia blinked, thinking hard. Nothing came to mind. "…Um?"
"We have after-school music rehearsal every Wednesday," Mrs. Miller reminded her.
"Oh—Mrs. Miller, please. Can I skip just today?"
"I'm sorry, Mia, but no. The principal is joining us to check if we're ready for regionals. And it's only one hour. Whatever you have planned can wait."
Her tone left no room for argument.
Mia sighed. "Yes, Mrs. Miller."
One hour wouldn't change anything… she hoped.
After sixty long minutes of repeating the violin piece over and over, they were finally dismissed. The principal even said she was confident they'd win regionals.
Mia barely heard it, she was already running out the door.
She sprinted to the bus stop, silently begging the bus to move faster. When she finally made it home, she almost tripped over the last few steps because she was running so fast. Her backpack bounced on her shoulders, her smile stretching her cheeks.
Finally!! She thought excitedly but then noticed something strange.
The front door was open.
Wide open.
Her parents never left the door open. Not even for a second. Not even when carrying groceries.
"Mom?" Mia called, stepping inside slowly. "Dad?"
The smell hit her before the silence did.
A thick, metallic scent in the air.
Her throat tightened. Her fingers trembled around her backpack strap.
"Dad?" she whispered again.
She slowly walked toward the living room. "Where is everyone."
But just as the thought settled, she stopped dead in her tracks.
Her father was on the floor.
Or what was left of him.
Her backpack slipped off her shoulder and hit the floor. The sound echoed, too loud in the quiet house.
Mia tried to scream, but her voice disappeared.
Her knees gave out, and she collapsed forward, vomiting on the carpet. Her whole body shaking uncontrollably.
"No… no, no, no…Dad."
The words barely came out. She wasn't sure if she was even speaking.
For a long moment, she couldn't move.
Couldn't breathe.
Couldn't think.
Her father. Her gentle, laughing, strong father..
He wasn't supposed to look like that.
His head had been smashed in by something heavy, leaving it misshapen and horrifying to look at, and there was so much blood it soaked everything around him.
Mia crawled backward until her back hit the wall.
Then, shaking so hard she could hardly stand, but she forced herself up.
"Mom…" she whispered.
She had to find her.
She had to.
Mia stumbled down the hallway, her legs barely holding her weight. She checked every room, every corner, calling her mother's name with a voice that didn't sound like hers.
She reached her parents' bedroom and slowly pushed the door open. But she wished she hadn't.
Her mother was on the bed.
Naked.
Still.
Too still.
Her throat was cut.
Her hands too.
Mia's breath caught in her chest.
Then everything inside her shattered.
She pressed both hands to her mouth to stop the sobs, but they tore out anyway—loud, broken and absolutely terrified sobs.
She climbed onto the bed and curled beside her dead mother, clutching her cold arm.
"Mom, please… please wake up… please…"
Her tears soaked into the sheets.
She stayed like that until her voice was gone and her body was empty.
That was the afternoon Mia's childhood ended.
The afternoon the world stopped being safe.
The afternoon something dark and quiet settled inside her chest—
—and never left.