By SAM HUANG
imagine this: a murder mystery where everybody knows
who the killer is but me, doomed from the start. everybody has
already identified the guilty party, throwing this party–is this fun
for you? stakes for me are nothing in comparison to entertainment
for the guests. everybody’s so polite. tell me i should’ve expected nothing
better. it was a dark and stormy night, crooked teeth glimmering
in the candlelight. in between the second and third waltz, i glance
down to see the knife in my stomach. in the middle
of the crowd, i stare the killer in the face. i remember him,
but can’t recall what color his eyes are. it was a dark and
stormy night. the police won’t accept my report, even with
the trail of blood slithering behind my rotting ankles. no
choice but to live with the life.
the party’s over, but the weapon won’t move, lodged
into my body like a brand-new organ taking root
inside unfamiliar dirt. i shape my life around this
permanence, this neverending pain. imagine this:
reworking the chestbones to breathe easier around
the rust. and holding my anger/sadness/grief inside
my tongue, opening my throat wider and wider until
i might swallow it one day. pray it goes out
one or the other. it has to end. it was a dark and stormy night,
but the ghost was white. it has the same eyes as the killer, black
and empty. the crime is resolved but remains unsolved–the officials
protect his name, keep the killer well-fed. the perfect poster boy
provides a beautiful mansion for fancy parties. maybe the end is bleeding
out like a true patriot, blue with the red around the knife. proud to die
for a country, for my morals, for being an imperfect victim of a
messy crime. the news cycle has moved on to cover more important matters.
is that new flesh forming around the metal? shiny
and dull; what a delicious contrast. invite me to the
next party, and i’ll try to hide the apparatus. maybe it won’t
be a dark and stormy night again. if i could beg the blood back,
if i could forget, maybe i would be myself again.
Writer | Sam Huang ’26| lhuan26@amherst.edu
Editor | Bea Agbi ’26 | bagbi26@amherst.edu