Ishita Joshi, Runner-Up

She was pregnant? I cannot believe this. I remember her telling me that she thought it was time, but I never really saw a kid somehow magically mend our marriage. Just days after my mother’s demise, this is the last thing I would’ve on my mind. For most of the time, it was Andy. You know, I tried. I tried not to turn like my father. Someone who did not respect women, even his own wife, and always used to be with some girl or the other. But after a time I realised, a kid is always the reflection of his parents. No matter how hard he tries. He will always end up being the same sack of garbage he thought he would never be. And so it turned out to be. I became my father. Amy and I lost touch just days after I got laid off and shifted to Missouri after hearing about my mother’s deteriorating health. With Amy, Margo, and I being with her, I really thought we could save her. But my worst fear had come true. My mother died and with her, the last shred of our happy marriage. And so I thought, maybe it’s time for a divorce. Maybe it is time to finally let go of that excruciating pain of solving stupid puzzles for anniversary presents for years.

A part of me was relieved when I heard that Amy was gone. That part only focussed on the cons of the marriage and never the pros. It only showed me how toxic my life had become with my wife being the sole income earner and me being debt-buried by her money. This part never imagined a happy life with Amy and a child. And slowly, as the news channels proceeded with dragging my name in the mud and convicting me of murdering my wife, this part of me started to dominate my other part. The part that imagined a happy family with two kids having a picnic at the Sawyer beach. After Detective Boney gave me this earth-shattering news, I was completely numb. I didn’t want to move my body or think anything. I didn’t want to think about Amy with our child wandering somewhere in the dark alone.

I didn’t want to think about the reputation of The Bar going down. I didn’t want to think about my in-laws who already see me as their daughter’s murderer. And most importantly, I didn’t want to think about Andy. About how much I love her. About how much I’ve missed her around me. About how I would do anything to be with her. About how I lost by just 3 hours to file for divorce and propose to her with the ring in the pocket of my jacket. I am pregnant. Or am I? I guess the answer to that is probably all over the news channels around the USA. It was not that hard to stage a crime without actually ever committing a crime. Would you believe that the sweet innocent perfect ‘Amazing Amy’ strategically staged murder and framed her own perfect and princely husband? I don’t think so. But you would believe the murder of an innocent pregnant wife by her cruel husband who was having an affair and just got to know about his wife’s pregnancy. I saw her right outside The Bar.

I thought it to be a romantic gesture to surprise Nick where we had our first date. But instead, I saw a girl right outside The Bar with Nick, hand in hand walking in the sugar storm. He leaned into her and for a moment, I saw our first date. I saw the smile on his face and his hands on my cheek. I saw it all, except it was with her. His teenage mistress. So I decided to gift him a little surprise on our fifth and last anniversary. For when he finds out my plan of staging my murder by him, I would’ve been long gone. And so will his reputation. Only after that will I accept my justice served. Since Amy Elliot Dunne is dead for people, there will be no divorce and I can finally live my life away from Nick, being Nancy Truman. Being my own self and not the cool girl I made myself to be with him. I can finally be liberated of my own self, of my own perfect image created in the eyes of people and my parents by ‘Amazing Amy’. I can finally be my own flawed, bruised, not-so-perfect self. I am finally free and it feels great.

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Kirit P. Mehta School of Law Publications