Miss Perfect

“I swear Amelia,” Spencer exclaims for what must be the eighth time this morning. “Aria is just... amazing! She’s gorgeous, smart, and – God help me! – her laugh! Have you heard her laugh, Amelia?”

“Can’t say I have.” I lie. Of course I’ve heard her laugh. The school goes deathly quiet every time she does, everyone mutually agreeing to let the sound ring through the hallways. Its echo never ends even as the sound technically fades. It dances around in your mind, driving you insane.

“Captain of the swim team,” Oh, he’s still going. I wish I would’ve put my earbuds on when he walked into our homeroom class. “Part of the acapella group, student president, and the most beautiful woman on earth!” Did he stalk her or something? Listing her credentials as an exemplary student wasn’t going to make her swoon.

“Yes, yes, she’s great.” I nervously try to end the conversation. A persistent nagging at my brain demands I end the discussion for good. “Maybe you shouldn’t go after her?” I suggest hesitantly.

“Are you crazy?!” He demands, looking offended at the mere suggestion. “I’m head over heels! Have you not heard how I feel about her, Ames? How amazing she is? Because I’ll happily repeat it.”

“Oh, believe me, I’ve heard,” I reply, trying not to sound aggravated. He had been telling me all about every beautiful aspect of Aria for six months, ever since he noticed her at the school concert. That’s when everybody first noticed her, with one exception. Me! “But that’s what I’m talking about, Spencer! She’s so amazing every eligible bachelor has been confessing to her left, right, and center. Have you ever even talked to her before?” I Immediately regret my harsh tone when his face goes from lovestruck to heartbroken.

“Are you saying she’s out of my league?”

“What, no, of course not!” Where did he get that from? I was just trying to tell him that she was probably overwhelmed enough with all the people suddenly falling for her without adding another to the pile. It’s not about me.

“Then are you going to support me on this?”

“On what?” He rolls his eyes back at me. Am I supposed to understand?

“I’m going to confess to her tomorrow. Are you gonna help me, or stand in my way?” Huh? Why now? The shock must’ve made its way onto my face, as he clarified. “I’ve been planning this for four months, remember? I talk about it all the time, or are you such a bad friend that you haven’t listened to me about that either?” Where is this coming from? Spencer had never been so malicious, especially over something silly like a girl - amazing as she is! As much as I hate to support him on something like this... he wouldn’t get over it any time soon. We’d been friends since elementary school, I couldn’t give it up for... for a crush. Yeah, that’s all it is.

“Of course I’ll help,” I confirmed, as confident as I didn’t feel. Usually, his responding bright grin would have made my sacrifice worth it. This time, it made me want to pull out each of his pearly white teeth and squeeze his sensitive, bleeding gums. The bell rings. Spencer scurries off to his first period class without a thanks. I wither in my seat, wondering how I’ll get through the school day with my heart shattered into pieces. Oh well, worse things have happened. I could give up my already insignificant chance with Aria for his friendship. I could.

I couldn’t. My sleep was interrupted, my head full of images of Spencer and Aria doing all the things I wanted to do with her. It makes me burn with jealousy, with desire. Never could I speak any of these violent, vengeful, lustful fantasies aloud. I know they aren’t feasible. With my unwaveringly quiet nature, she would overlook me like everyone else. Except Spencer, I remind myself, he has been by your side even after coming out, you need to support him. Reason told me that was true, but each word felt emptier the more I repeated them to myself.

I knew I’d never have the courage to pour my heart out to the angelic girl I’d been in - had a crush on - after two years of waiting. But it didn’t make the hurt any less. I had never told anyone about my feelings for her, and if I told Spencer now, he’d think I developed them at the concert alongside everyone else. That was an insult I couldn’t sit down and take. I had always been the confidante, not the one who confides. What if... what if I told Spencer this one time? Would he back off? We’d had so much time together; obviously, he’d do this one thing for me in return, right?

…Wrong. I know I’m wrong. He had changed since noticing Aria. He’s fiercely protective of her, more so than he ever was of me. Did he really care so little about me? I shouldn’t be surprised, no one really did. Still, Spencer is all I have. There’s no choice but to bolster him. With my mind made up, I flop into my bed to sleep. That is, I would’ve if my alarm didn’t go off right then. “Ugh, It’s seven already?” I moan into my pillow. Regretfully, I roll out of bed and prepare for the dreadful day ahead of me.

As soon as I saw Spencer, my distant hope that he would back out of telling Aria everything was brutally snuffed out. In his hands are a bunch of orchids, her favourite flower. How did he know what it was? I certainly didn’t tell him. “I’ve got it all planned, everything’s ready!” Spencer cried giddily, practically skipping like a schoolgirl to get to me.

“Oh, do you?” There wasn’t a hint of inflection in my voice. All the emotion that had been coursing through me in the night had disappeared. I can’t summon up anything except cold bitterness.

“Yup! Oh, she’s gonna love it, Ames! There’s no way she’ll reject me after this spectacle.” he said brightly, oblivious to my forlornness. There was a time when my feelings were what mattered to him most.

“Let’s get you to the bathroom; freshen you up. You’re looking a bit grimy.” The words leave my mouth without even thinking about them, and form entirely without my consent. They were also entirely false. He didn’t look the slightest bit dirty, in fact, Spencer looked fresh as a daisy. He’d clearly prepared all morning, hair gelled for the first time since meeting him, and reeking of his father’s cologne.

“What?” He paled, a look of terror spreading across his face. This behavior was far too serious for a low-stakes high school confession.

“You shouldn’t worry,” I assured, standing up from my seat. My brain didn’t ask my legs to move. I’m no biology expert, but I’m pretty sure that isn’t supposed to happen. “I’ll fix you right up. Follow me.” I led him to the bathroom hastily. What’s the rush? I heard about something like this in my psychology class, where your subconscious takes over. I’m pretty sure my subconscious should be trying to sabotage him though, not clean him up. Before I can attempt to take back control, I blink. The world has moved.

I’m in the bathroom. When did I get here? My mind is fuzzy; all I can process is the bathroom sink running. Why am I washing my hands? It’s blisteringly hot on the highest setting the tap can go to, and my skin is starting to welt. Something is sticking to me, and I continue rubbing my hands in a frantic attempt to get it off. The next thing I’m aware of is the smell. It’s horrible, overwhelming. Iron, I realize, and it finally clicks.

My stomach churns, and I barely make it to the bathroom stall before emptying my meager breakfast into the toilet. The smell seems to get worse by the second, and I can’t tell whether it’s because it actually gets stronger, or because I’m coming back to my senses. Or maybe because I’m in a goddamned puddle of blood. I try to scramble away, but obviously the slippery when wet signs had a point, because that attempt leaves me facedown, choking on still-warm blood. That, paired with the fact that Spencer’s confessing to my longtime crush today makes me hopeful that I’m just in an awful nightmare.

I pinch myself with my blood-soaked hands, but I remain in the bathroom. Damn. Shakily, I make my way to discover the origin of all the blood. I checked myself for wounds already but found none. As I check the third stall, the source becomes quite clear. Spencer’s dead body bleeds profusely over the seat of the public toilet. Not exactly a fantastic way to die, methinks.

Remotely, I register what I should be thinking and feeling. Things like, “did I kill him?”, “I must have!”, and “what should I do?”, but none came. Shock from seeing my first dead body, hope that it would be the last, fear of getting caught, shame, remorse, grief, etcetera, but none came. All that I felt was a smug satisfaction. “That’s what you get! She’s mine.” A small part of my mind screamed, begged, and pleaded for me to realize that this isn’t normal, but I don’t care. No, I can’t care. It’s almost like I’m incapable. The only things I could feel, think, or care about were related to Aria. Nothing else compared to her beauty and grace.

Due to Spencer’s... unfortunate passing, I decide I need to confess my love to Aria today in his place. It’s what he would’ve wanted, I’m sure. When I get back to class, everything feels different; like the world had shifted. But it’s not the world around me that’s changed. It’s me. My world has recentered around someone else. Around Aria. In every class, instead of diligently taking notes and hanging onto every word that my teachers say, I just stare at the beauty's friends.

I’m hyper-aware of everyone that interacts with her. Every time I see them, my blood boils. Who do they think they are, taking up her time, her love? They aren’t worthy. They’re the next to go, I decided with confidence I’ve never had before. For Aria, I’d do anything. As soon as the bell rings, I grab her friends by the arms before they could react and drag them to the first-floor bathroom, rarely used, where I killed Spencer. That thought should bring up some kind of buried response. It doesn’t.

As soon as they see his lifeless corpse and the blood surrounding it which no longer bothers me, the light-haired one screams in terror. Her first. Keep them quiet, she can’t know. I’m an efficient killer, cruel, merciless, and possessive. I somewhat acknowledge that I never had any of those traits before, but I embrace them quickly, as they’re necessary tools in winning my future bride over. I cut the first one’s neck open with the pocket knife the boy scouts always told me to always keep on my person. I never suspected it would come in handy.

“Please, please let me live!” The green-eyed one cries. What was her name again? Jennifer? Jessica? Something like that.

“No,” I reply bluntly. I stick the knife in all their throats to keep them quiet and take sadistic pleasure in beating the life out of each and every one of them. The only one who put up a fight was the girl on the rugby team, but she’s no match for the power that comes with my undying love. I tear out her teeth like I thought of doing to Spencer, and I’m sure she would cry if I hadn’t plucked out her eyes.

Throughout the day, my guilt, hesitation, and conscience lessen while obsession grows. All the guys whom I know have crushes on her, even her teachers; they die by my hand.

The killings are not my main concern though, no, that goes to my plan of winning over Aria’s heart. I picked up the orchids from Spencer’s corpse - the ones that weren’t bloodstained - and tied them in a gorgeous aquamarine ribbon; her favourite colour. Nervously, I approach her during our lunch break. Oddly enough, she doesn’t seem all too upset or confused by the fact that she’s sitting alone when she’s normally surrounded by hordes of friends. She must appreciate me gifting her peace and quiet, I rationalize, glad that I made the decision I did.

Aria starts off their conversation brightly. “Oh, it’s you! Hi Amelia.”

‘She remembers my name!’ I cheer internally. I must’ve made a lasting impression on her. Or she’s just that considerate. Either way, that bodes well for our later meeting. “Uh, yes.” I immediately become a bumbling, stuttering mess. She has that effect on me.

“Well, what brings you here?” I nearly freeze up, but I knew I would never forgive myself if I did. What if I don’t get another chance with her?

“I... just wanted to ask you something.”

“Oh?”

“Would you- uh- meet me after school at the pool today? I have something to tell you.” She looked positively giddy at the suggestion. Thank goodness.

“I’d be delighted, Amelia,” I let out a relieved breath. “I’m always excited for a meeting by the pool. Ooh, will we get to swim? I always have my bathing suit on me.” So eager. I knew a mention of the pool would set her off. She’s so passionate about swimming. For a moment, she paused, bright eyes turning concerned. “Amelia, is there blood on your sweater?” That was the third time she’d said my name.

“That’dbegreatthanksbye!” I shouted out so fast it was nearly incoherent, ignoring her last question. Damn it, she couldn’t know what I did for her. I skip my remaining two periods, instead preparing myself for our rendezvous. I understand why Spencer was so insistent on looking good for her. Each wrinkle on my dress is like a personal offence. I wash out the bloodstains that she was observant enough of me to notice.

I watch the large clock in the auditorium. 3:20, 3:24, 3:27, 3:28, 3:29... 3:30. The bell rang and echoed through the assembly room, shrill and obnoxious – nothing like Aria’s voice. It meant it was my time to shine. In an instant, I booked it to the pool.

When I arrived, she was already there, waiting for me. How could I keep her waiting? I should’ve stayed here! I berate myself sharply, digging my nails into my skin as penance for my crime. That’s what it was to disappoint her, after all, a crime worse than the corpses flooding the halls of the school.

“Amelia! You’re here.”

“Of course I am.” I nearly dropped to my knees and begged her to forgive me for leaving her waiting, but she dismissed my guilt before I could say a word.

“I had no doubt.” She grinned wickedly. No... not wickedly. She is all that’s good in the world! She didn’t have even a hint of evil in her bones, she couldn’t. What would my life be for otherwise? “Now, come sit. You had something to tell me?” She tapped the spot beside her invitingly.

“Yes,” I summon up all the courage I ever had. “Aria, you might not remember, but I’ve known you for quite a while. I knew you well before the performance you gave in front of the school. I’ve been in love with you for two years Aria,” I no longer denied it with the use of the word ‘crush’. That would’ve been an insult to her and the burning feelings inside him. Tentatively, I look up to decipher her expression, and am gobsmacked when her face reads only shock.

“Two years?” She scoffs, smiling slightly. “That explains why I have such a hold on you, Amelia. Tell me, how many people did you kill in my name?” What? Her laugh went from soft and alluring to downright maniacal. How does she know what I did? Why does she seem so... excited about it?

“I-”

“Shush, Ames, you’re mine now.” Before I could respond, she embraced me roughly, scratching at my back. She kissed me with fervor, so much so that I felt she was draining my energy just to keep up with her. No... that wasn’t right; my energy was being drained. It wasn’t quite to the point where I could no longer move, but I couldn’t push her off me if I wanted to. When she finally broke the kiss, she threw me off her, straight into the pool with an evil smirk decorating her gorgeous face.

Obviously, at first, I tried to struggle but found that I had no energy left in me. I’m paralyzed. Well, this isn’t the worst place to die, I muse. After all, I can still hear her gorgeous singing. That’s what I focused my attention on. Through the excruciating pain of drowning, her voice soothes me. Instead of bearing any ill-will towards my queen, I had a sudden realization. It’s a gift to die by her hand, and I should help her in her goal. So, without hesitation, self-preservation instincts long gone, I let the water spill into my lungs for the sake of my perfect woman.