Fight

(Trigger Warning: Violence, murder. This may trigger some who have been the victims of domestic violence, though the piece is about self-identification and masculinity versus femininity.)

Illustration for Fight by Sendy Kurniawan

Fight

A frail woman stood in a kitchen cutting vegetables when a man silently came up behind her. He placed his arms around her waist. Without a sound, the woman placed the knife on the cutting board and turned around in the man’s arms. As she hugged him, the man’s fingers crept across the counter top towards the knife. Once the handle was in his hand, he plunged the knife deep into the woman’s back and pulled it out just as quickly. She winced from the pain but said nothing. 

He laid the weakening woman on the floor and washed his hands clean. She neither moved nor questioned his motives as her life seeped out. He walked into the living room, leaving her in a puddle of blood.

Without a thought, he sat down in his chair as usual and took out a cigar. He unwrapped it and bit off the tip, spitting it onto the floor. He took matches out of his pocket and struck one against the box. A spark and puff of smoke came from the match as it was lit. The fire slowly consumed the cigar as the man inhaled. The body continued to lay lifeless in the other room while the man casually smoked his cigar.

As the man sat in the chair, the woman’s fingers began to move, walking their way up the cabinet door. Her hand grabbed onto the edge of the counter and pulled herself up. She stumbled forward, leaving bloody footprints. When she came to the doorway between the kitchen and living room, she used her hand to brace herself. Though the bloody hand could clearly be seen by the man, he remained seated and quiet.

The woman continued to walk across the room with blood dripping off of her. She sat in the chair opposite the man and stared at the wall. The man ignored the woman. The cloudy smoke rose and disappeared from the cigar, leaving a faint smell in the room.

As the two sat in silence, the man’s body began to fade. He became as transparent as the wisp of smoke at the end of his cigar. The man never dissolved into the air, but remained a shadow in the chair.

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