Mom Finds Out Her Teen Daughter Is a 𝐏𝐬𝐲𝐜𝐡𝐨 𝐊𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 | HO

The Knock at the Door

The knock came in the late afternoon, sharp and insistent, the kind that immediately signals something is wrong.

Outside a modest apartment complex in Miramar, uniformed police officers stood waiting. Inside, a mother—still unaware that her life was about to fracture—answered the door. Within minutes, she would learn that her 17-year-old daughter’s name had surfaced in a homicide investigation.

Police did not accuse. They did not explain much at first. They only said there had been an incident. A violent one. And her daughter’s name had come up.

Nearby, just hours earlier, officers had discovered the body of an 18-year-old boy hidden in bushes beside an apartment building. He had been stabbed multiple times—once in the neck, once in the chest. A knife lay discarded close to his body.

The victim was Dwight “DJ” Grant, a senior at Miramar High School.

By the time the sun began to set, yellow tape sealed off the crime scene. Patrol cars idled. Detectives arrived. And a mother stood outside her own home, barred from entering, waiting to hear the truth about what her child had done.

A Son Who Never Came Home

DJ Grant disappeared on a Sunday evening in October.

To his family, the silence was immediate and alarming. DJ was not reckless. He didn’t run away. He didn’t vanish without checking in. He was known as quiet, disciplined, focused—more interested in video games than parties, more concerned with school than drama.

When night fell and DJ still hadn’t returned home, his mother, a nurse, felt the dread settle in. Calls went unanswered. Text messages showed as delivered but never read.

By Monday morning, panic replaced hope. DJ missed school—something teachers and friends said had never happened before. His family began searching everywhere: friends’ homes, neighborhoods, apartment complexes. Flyers were printed. Police were notified. Officers canvassed the high school, questioning students one by one.

No one had answers.

Then, on Tuesday afternoon, officers following a trail of dried blood near Sherman Circle North made a discovery that ended the search.

DJ had been there the entire time—just steps from his own home.

The Body in the Bushes

The crime scene was chilling in its ordinariness.

DJ’s body was concealed in shrubbery beside an apartment building. Blood stains dotted the sidewalk. The injuries were unmistakably fatal. Investigators quickly determined the attack had been violent, deliberate, and close-range.

Police secured the area and began processing evidence. But what they did not yet understand was that the murder was not the work of a stranger, nor a spontaneous act of rage.

It was a coordinated ambush—planned days in advance—carried out by three teenagers who believed they were smarter than cameras, neighbors, and the law.

The Group Chat That Changed Everything

The breakthrough came from an unlikely source: a woman who walked into police headquarters holding her niece’s phone.

She was shaken. Concerned. Unsure whether what she had seen was real or teenage bravado. Inside the phone was a group chat involving several Miramar High students. The messages were disturbing—boasts about violence, references to killing, and claims of gang involvement.

One name appeared repeatedly.

Christy Parissian. Age 17.

Another woman’s daughter.

Detectives immediately understood the significance. The chat placed Christy in the orbit of the victim—and hinted that DJ’s death was not accidental, nor isolated.

It was intentional.

A Mother Learns the Unthinkable

Police went to Christy’s apartment that same night.

They did not have a warrant yet, but they needed to secure the scene. Christy’s mother was told she could not re-enter her own home. She waited outside as officers ensured no one else was inside.

Then came another revelation.

Christy had left her mother a voice message earlier that day—about the murder.

At that moment, detectives retrieved the phone.

The investigation changed course entirely.

The Second Girl Breaks

The next lead was Jasine Smith, 16.

Officers located her late that night outside her family’s apartment. Her mother stood beside her as detectives began asking questions. At first, Jasine denied involvement. Then she hesitated. Then she started talking.

She claimed the plan was only supposed to be a fight.

A boy. A girl. A love triangle.

Andre Clemens—17—had asked for help. He wanted backup. He wanted DJ cornered in a stairwell.

Jasine said she agreed because she had a reputation for fighting when she was younger. She said she wore all black. Gloves. A head covering. She said Andre planned everything.

But as she spoke, her story unraveled.

She admitted she helped trap DJ.

She admitted she helped hold him down.

And then, quietly, she admitted something far worse.

The Weapon No One Wanted to Name

Detectives pressed for details.

“What weapon?” an officer asked.

Jasine hesitated.

Then she said it.

A sword.

Not a knife. Not something easily concealed.

A sword.

The implication was devastating. A sword cannot be mistaken for a prop. It cannot be overlooked. It cannot be carried accidentally.

Which meant Jasine knew. And so did Christy.

This was not a fight.

This was an execution.

DJ’s Final Moments

According to Jasine’s own words, DJ tried to run. He was tackled. Pinned. Held by his legs as Andre struck him repeatedly.

DJ begged.

At one point, he pleaded for the pain to end.

“You’re going to kill me,” he said.

Andre did not stop.

DJ lost consciousness. He died in the stairwell where he had been lured under false pretenses—seduced, cornered, betrayed.

And still, the violence did not end.

Destroying the Evidence

After the killing, the teens dragged DJ’s body into nearby bushes. They packed the weapons into a bag. Then they made a fatal mistake.

Back at another apartment complex, in a grassy open area visible from multiple buildings, they set fire to their clothes using gasoline.

They believed they were erasing the past.

But someone was watching.

A security guard noticed the flames. A resident observed the figures standing nearby—motionless, shaken, yet disturbingly calm.

Surveillance cameras captured everything.

Their movements. Their clothing. DJ’s final steps.

The crime was already solved. The suspects just didn’t know it yet.

Arrests and Adult Charges

Within days, police arrested all three teenagers.

Andre Clemens, 17

Christy Parissian, 17

Jasine Smith, 16

Despite their ages, all were charged as adults.

The charges were severe:

Conspiracy to commit murder

Tampering with evidence

Second-degree murder (Christy and Jasine)

First-degree premeditated murder (Andre)

The evidence was overwhelming.

Text messages. Video footage. Witness testimony. Confessions.

There would be no plea of ignorance. No claim of accident.

Sentencing and Silence

Christy Parissian and Jasine Smith both pleaded guilty.

Each received 25 years in prison, followed by 10 years of probation.

Andre Clemens—the architect of the plan, the one who wielded the sword—received the harshest punishment.

In February 2025, he was sentenced to 40 years in prison, followed by lifetime probation.

DJ Grant’s family sat through every hearing.

A mother listened as the court detailed how her son begged for his life.

Another mother listened as the court explained how her daughter helped take one.

The Question No Parent Wants to Ask

How does a mother discover her child is capable of murder?

Not through warning signs. Not through school reports. Not through violent outbursts at home.

But through a knock at the door.

This case shattered a community—and exposed a truth that law enforcement sees too often and parents fear the most:

Sometimes, the danger isn’t outside the home.

Sometimes, it’s sleeping in the next bedroom.