MISS CLASSIC

The bells of the cemetery jingled loudly as a white Porsche and four red Jeeps drove smoothly through the cemetery gate and parked at the front of a church. The wind howled through the graveyard, kicking up dry leaves that clung to the headstones like ghosts. The red Jeeps' doors were pushed open, and hefty bodyguards poured out, rushing towards the white Porsche. One of them flung the door open. When the door of the Porsche was flung open, a pair of white heels emerged, and the hem of a white floral gown swept the floor as a feminine figure stepped out. The cold air hit her bare arms, but she didn't flinch. "…Wait here for me. I need privacy with my family," she muttered as she moved towards the entrance of the cemetery. She carried the grace of a temptress—very dominating and cold. The aura of an ancient goddess, gentle and calm. As she moved towards the entrance, her long red hair cascaded down her shoulders and over her back, whipping slightly in the wind. In her hands were a bouquet of lilies—white, pristine, trembling slightly. She sucked in her breath and exhaled softly, her eyes shut tightly as she tried to control the throbbing of her heart. She was going to speak to her parents after thirteen long years away from New York. She'd just gotten back to the city but hadn't gone home yet—because she couldn't set foot in New York without visiting her family first. Her heels clicked against the stone path, each step echoing in the heavy silence. The cemetery stretched out before her, rows upon rows of graves, but her eyes were locked on one spot. Two graves. Side by side. Just like they'd always been. Her eyes welled up as she reached the front of two graves with the names LORENZO BRONTË AND CASSANDRA BRONTË boldly carved into the marble. Fresh flowers from someone else—a visitor, maybe her grandma—lay wilted at the base. She slowly fell to her knees, the gravel biting into her skin through her thin gown. Hot tears started pouring down her eyes, streaking her perfectly done makeup. Thirteen solid years, and she hadn't spoken to or seen her parents. It wasn't easy, living with the thought of never seeing your loved ones ever again. She knows her grandma tries filling the space of her parents, but it's not that easy for someone to replace the place of her mother. She's tasted pies from all over the world—Paris, Milan, Tokyo—but none were like the ones her mom made. And she misses her Papa's crazy jokes so much—he used to tell them when they went camping or hiking, his deep laugh echoing through the woods. Her parents were the best thing the great Lord had blessed her with. She was so carefree and lovely when they were still here, but now they're gone, and she doesn't love anyone apart from her sassy grandma. She never thought a day would come where she would kneel in front of both her parents' graves, sobbing and wailing in so much sadness. She buried them at the age of ten. She was there when everything happened—the screech of tires, the glass shattering, her mother's scream—but she was too young to do anything to protect them. She still regrets why she wanted Chinese food that fateful day—when she wasn't even a fan of Chinese food. Their chefs could have made the best Chinese food for her, but that day seemed different. She just had to go out. It was her fault her parents died that fateful day. She's lonely because she killed her parents. She took them out when she wasn't even meant to go out. She just had to ask for Chinese food that day, when she didn't even like it. "f**k!!!" she cursed under her breath, wiping her tears with a white handkerchief that was already soaked. "It feels like it happened yesterday." She groaned roughly as she slowly placed the bouquet of lilies between the two graves, her fingers brushing the cold stone. "I'm so sorry, Mom, Dad. I didn't mean for this to happen. I wish I was warned beforehand—I wouldn't have let us out of the house that fateful day." Her lips quivered as she forced the next words out. "I'm finally back after thirteen long years, Dad. I read business back in Vegas. And Mom—trust me—I've been Miss World and Miss Universe for the past several years, and I know I took that from you. I wish you guys were here to see what your daughter has grown up to be." She laughed bitterly, wiping another wave of tears. "You'd probably be so proud. Or maybe you'd tell me to stop parading around in heels and come home already." If going back in time wasn't just a fantasy, she would have long gone back to change everything. "I'm such a monster. I killed my parents," she cried, crumbling on her knees with her eyes tightly shut, her fingers trembling against her chest. Somewhere behind her, a bodyguard coughed awkwardly. She snapped back to reality. She was still here. Still breathing. Still alive—while they weren't. She forced herself to stand, brushed the gravel off her knees, and straightened her gown. She looked at the graves one last time. "I'll be back. I promise." Then she turned and walked away, her heels clicking against the stone, her face cold and unreadable once more.