I Killed My Own Family

Alesha's POV

On the day of my daughter's first-month celebration, I personally fed her a bottle of sleeping pills.

I also watched as my parents, who’d been buzzing around all morning, collapsed into a pool of blood and dropped dead.

Then there was Robbie, my husband. His legs were cut clean off, and nothing was left at the thighs. I reckon there wasn’t much hope for him after that.

Out of what I figured was kindness, I called the police. And then, I sat right there on the couch, waiting, quiet as a mouse.

By the time they showed up, I’d finished off the last piece of fruit from the platter. The air was thick with the smell of blood, enough to make anyone’s stomach churn. The officer who led the bunch, took one look at me, sitting so calm, and his whole body stiffened. He shouted, his voice full of anger.

“Did you kill these folks? Why would you do such a thing?”

He didn’t wait for me to answer before he went on like he already knew. “We looked into things before we got here. You’re their biological daughter! Neighbors say your parents doted on you and loved you more than life itself. No one’s ever heard a bad word between you all. So, why’d you do it?”

He wasn’t wrong. I was their only child, and yeah, my parents treated me real well. Folks around town were jealous of the life I had.

Even love came easy to me. I met Robbie Mcknight, and after six months of dating, we tied the knot. A year later, I brought our little girl, Isobel, into the world.

Today, we were supposed to be celebrating my baby's first month.

Mom got up before the sun, around five, to make sure everything was perfect. She even gave the housekeeper the day off so she could do everything herself, saying it was special that way. She went to the market and carried all those heavy bags back, wouldn’t let me help, even though it had her bent from the weight.

Once she got home, she didn’t stop to rest long. She came right over, gently stroking my head, her voice soft as silk. “You just hold the baby and rest, Alesha. I’ll make your favorite dishes, and your dad will handle the formula. You don’t need to lift a finger, sweetheart.”

As she turned to leave, she noticed the corner of Isobel’s blanket was a little loose. Quick as ever, she tucked it in real careful, muttering to herself, “Even after the confinement period, we gotta be careful. Can’t let our precious girl catch a cold.”

I smiled at her fussing. “Mom, I’m grown now. I can take care of things. You go do what you need to."

When I was younger, I thought that’s just how parents were with their kids. It wasn’t until I got to school, when I casually mentioned my home life to my classmates, that I realized how lucky I was, seeing their envious expressions and comparing their families’ ways of parenting.

My folks never pushed me hard about school or grades. All they ever wanted was for me to be happy. They spoiled me, gave me everything I could want, and supported every little hobby I picked up. And in return, I became their perfect little girl. Not a single fight between us in all my twenty-five years of life.

Looking back, I guess that’s what real love feels like.

Dad was sitting on the couch, watching the morning news, when he heard me talking to Mom. He laughed, his eyes crinkling at the edges. “Your mom’s always been like that. I bet even if you reached your eighties, she’ll still want to carry you around like you’re still her baby.”

Mom, feeling a bit defensive, shot back, “And you’re no better! Who stayed up all night watching over your granddaughter ‘cause he was too excited to sleep, huh?”

"Time flies indeed. It feels like just a year ago I was staring at our daughter and now it's our granddaughter," she imitated Dad's words, mocking him.

Dad coughed, trying to hide his awkwardness. “No need to mention that in front of Alesha. I’m just older now, so it's hard for me to get a sleep.”

Mom gave me a look, one that said we both knew Dad’s soft spot. We made the same face, a little disgusted, but we were in on the joke. In our home, love was never something subtle.

They always showed it, loud and clear. Just like now.

Once Mom got busy in the kitchen, I looked down at my daughter, her little face so peaceful in sleep. That’s when Dad snuck in real quiet and dropped a thick red envelope in front of me with a grin.

"Don’t let your mom see this! Been saving up my whole life—this here is for my precious granddaughter."

He always liked to talk big about hiding money away, but the truth is, his little stash had long since gone into my hands. I smiled and took it, but this time, I didn’t tease him like I usually did.

He leaned in, ready to poke at his sleeping granddaughter, but before he could, Mom walked in, carrying a plate of freshly cut fruit.

"What are you doing, you old fool?" she snapped, laughing at him. "Don’t go disturbing Alesha and the baby! Get outta here before you stink up the place!"

Dad didn’t argue and left. Once he was gone, Mom turned to me, her face softening as she asked, "When’s Robbie coming? I want to time the meal just right."

I kept it simple. "He had something to take care of this morning, but he’ll be here soon. No need to rush."

But at the mention of Robbie, I felt my eyes tremble a little.

Mom must’ve noticed, thinking we might’ve had a fight. She offered me a piece of fruit and gently said, "Alesha, I know Robbie treats you well. Your father and I see it. You’ve gotta learn to care for others too, sweetie. It’s not easy finding a good man. Don’t be so stubborn—you’ve got a whole lifetime ahead together. Your dad and I won’t always be here."

Her words were so kind and so patient that I felt tears well up. She was indeed a good mother.

Responding to her, I nodded, taking it all in.

But under the blanket, my hands were clenching tighter and tighter, my nails digging into my palms.

Mom then reached into her pocket and pulled out a solid gold bracelet, slipping it onto my daughter’s tiny wrist. She turned my baby’s little hand this way and that, smiling like it was the best thing she’d ever seen.

After a bit, she looked up, like she’d just remembered I was there. She patted my hand, her eyes warm.

"Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten about you. It’s just that the jewelry store didn’t have anything in your style. Once tonight’s over, I’ll head to another shop and pick out something special for you."

I smiled and thanked her, but inside, my heart felt colder by the second. I'm afraid I won’t be able to wait for your gift, Mom.

Mom didn’t notice a thing. She gave me a quick nod and went right back to the kitchen, just like that.