She didn’t know what happened. She always thought they were the perfect couple. They had done everything together for as long as she could remember. She always assumed they would end up married and making babies like Mom and Dad. No one could convince her otherwise, although they tried. As she stood at the window outside his perfect home, that should have been their home, staring into his living room looking at his perfect wife, and perfect children, she was confused. Why was she outside looking in? Why was she standing in the cold, shivering, fingers numb, curled around the handle of a knife, her nails digging so hard into her palms she was bleeding? What did Mila have that she didn’t? Nothing, that’s what. She didn’t have the life-long history that she and Mark had. She didn’t have the shared memories. Nothing. She had nothing. Except Mark. And the life she was supposed to have. The life she always expected to have. What did she do wrong?

Inside, she saw Mark pick up his son while Mila picked up their daughter to get ready for bed. They turned off the lights and headed up the stairs. She waited. When she thought enough time had passed, she creeped around the back of the house to the French doors off the family room. She knew they never locked them. No one did in their town. There was never any reason to do so. The Family Town, they called it. Nothing bad ever happened here.

She looked up and saw the lights still on in what she knew were the bathroom and children’s bedroom. Of course she knew. She had been there just that afternoon cooing over her niece and nephew. Oooh, how beautiful baby Myra is. Look at all that hair! And Donny looks just like his daddy at that age, doesn’t he? And Mila acting all goofy happy and hugging on Mark like she wasn’t even there. Like she didn’t love him first and more and better than Mila ever could. She almost killed Mila right then. But she didn’t.

When the lights went out, she waited until she thought they might be asleep, and then quietly opened the door. She walked softly through the family room to the bottom of the stairs. She listened. Silence. And then the squeak of a bed spring. She paused. When the air remained still, she started up the stairs, the knife raised in her hand. Mila was going to die tonight, and then she and Mark could live the life they were supposed to be living. She smiled as she gripped the door knob to their room and slowly pushed it open.

It was midnight when Melissa showed up at Goldie’s, All-Night Eatery. She had a call from Myra, and she sounded insistent that she be at Goldie’s. Melissa could tell by Myra’s voice something had happened, but what?

Stepping inside Goldie’s, she saw Myra sitting in the far side to her left. She went over to the table and sat across from her.

“Girl, you look like a train wreck. What’s going on?”

Myra opened her purse, spun it around where Melissa had a good look at a gun inside.

“What the he—is that a gun?”

“Yes. I used it tonight on Mark.”

This shook Melissa. “Mark! You mean you….”

“He’s, yes, he’s dead.”

“But, but, why?”

Myra spun the purse around and reached inside for the gun.

“I think you know, Melissa. Mark and I were an item until a week ago. Then I found out you and him, were seeing each other. And that was all it took. I took my gun I use for self-protection at home, loaded it, went to his apartment and shot him four times.”

The look of shock and disbelief was all over Melissa’s face.

“Myra, I, we, I mean,”

“Shut up and do what I tell you. Get up and go to your car. I’ll be right behind you so don’t try anything stupid.”

Nervously, Melissa made her way out of Goldie’s until she was by the driver’s side door of her Mazda.

Turning she looked at Myra and asked, “Now what?”

“This.”

Myra fired the last two bullets from her gun catching Melissa twice in the chest. Melissa flew backward hard into the car and slumped to the graveled parking lot.

Myra, exhaled, putting the gun away and casually walked over to her car, got behind the wheel and drove back to her apartment.

Once there, she stripped down, took a long hot shower, dried off, put on a robe, then went about to clean her gun and put it away.

She knew the police may find out it was her that killed Mark and Melissa, but she didn’t care. She had just killed her former boyfriend and what she thought was her best friend in the whole world.

A thought crossed her mind and she retrieved the gun once more and loaded a single bullet and cocked the hammer.

Looking out at the city’s night landscape, tears running down her face, she raised the gun to her temple and squeezed the trigger.

… and the night never felt a thing.

“Here are your seats, your server will be with you shortly,” Melissa said pleasantly to the couple following behind her. They sat down allowing herself to leave them and head to the employee changing room. After getting changed into her normal clothes she started for the exit, near the entrance she saw a young woman holding a gun.

“This is a holdup,” the young woman yelled into the restaurant.

Melissa took a step back, stepping into a table. Making the silverware slide around, the clattering noise of the pieces fo metal settle alerted the woman of a possible threat to her cause.

“You,” the woman called to Melissa aiming her gun directly between the other’s eyes.

”... M-Me,” Melissa asked softly. The criminal motioned for Melissa to come over to her, not wanting to get killed today she complied.

“Open your phone and log onto any social media you have. Preferably the one with the most followers,” the woman demanded. Melissa did as she was told.

“Now what,” Melissa asked shakily.

“Instagram? Start a video, I have something to say,” the woman replied maliciously. She did as she was told. "I'm aware that I'm a face you've never seen but after today you will never forget my name. The name's April and everybody in this restaurant is my hostage. Good luck, the chase is on. Cut the video."

Melissa posted the video tagging to location as a hope to get somebody to save them, she was watching and didn't seem to mind. She lifted her weapon away from my head, a series of loud bangs echoed throughout the building. Screaming was heard from all directions, shouts of agony. The smell of blood and gun powder, April was smiling wickedly.

"Come with me," April purred into my ear, she pulled Melissa onto my feet and out of the restaurant. The police finally came, but there was no trace of April and Melissa was missing. The hunt for April has begun.