The Eyes Are the Best Part

by Monika Kim

“More for me!” Umma says cheerfully. She takes one metal chopstick between her fingers and stabs it into the fish’s head. Next to me, Ji-hyun makes a noise that’s somewhere between a gasp and a heave. I don’t even have to look at her to know that her mouth is hanging wide open. Mine is frozen in the same way, our expressions mirrored.

Haha my face did that too.

After a few seconds, Umma takes both of her chopsticks and holds them high in the air so that Ji-hyun and I can see the small white ball positioned in between the two slender pieces of metal. She’s triumphant, her own eyes sparkling, and before either of us can stop her, she pops the entire thing in her mouth.

Gaaaaaaaaaaaahhhh I know plenty of people eat fish eyes but there is something about Umma's attitude that makes this really unsettling for me.

“So delicious!” she exclaims, opening her mouth and showing us her tongue. The silvery fillings in her teeth glint in the light.

It's a shame they truncated this one cuz the whole section really heebied my jeebies.

There are some things that you can never truly escape. Not really. Maybe that’s why, even now, she’s stuck in the past, long after everyone else has moved on.

“Fine,” Umma snaps. “If neither of you care about me, I’ll go crawl in a hole and die. You’ll both wish you were nicer to me when I’m gone.” There’s an edge to her voice, a note of desperation.

We love emotional manipulation.

My sister knows as well as I do that if we keep ignoring our mother, she’ll burst into tears or lash out in anger. With a sigh, I put my pencil down and rub at the graphite smudged along my wrist. “What? I’m listening.” Umma brightens up instantly, her melancholic demeanor gone, and leans forward, putting her hands together.

Umma cmon now

“You’re just projecting,” Ji-hyun says. Umma doesn’t know what projecting means, but she knows it’s something bad. Her lips flatten into a thin line and her chin begins to wobble. Her eyes fill with tears, and suddenly she begins wailing. Ji-hyun and I jump up, startled, and look at each other.

The exasperated sigh I just sighed.

The tightness in my chest loosens. My sister has a gift for sidestepping conflict, for easing tension, for turning things around. I, on the other hand, am clumsy, awkward.

Mood

The outside of the eyeball is fatty, almost jellylike, with a salty, fishy flavor. Underneath the gelatinous goop there’s a hard white sphere that tastes like nothing. I bite down, grinning at my mother, and swallow.

More than anything, he hated that everything in his life served as a reminder of his failures. I don’t blame him. Maybe because I know what it’s like, to live a life so defined by want. That’s why I was able to recognize it in him—it was what I had been feeling for so long.

Swearing on your mother’s life is something so American, so white, that neither of us can truly understand it. In our culture, swearing on your mother’s life is probably one of the worst sins you can commit. What is there that’s more important than your mother, your father, or your grandparents? It doesn’t sound like George has ever heard of filial piety.

Her tears dripped onto my hands, onto the carpet; I watched them fall and had the sudden realization that our roles had reversed. Somehow, I had become the mother and she the daughter.

Nothing quite like a bit of parentification to go along with the manipulation.

Fate can bring you together, but it can just as easily tear you apart.

What is it like to live freely, to live a life untethered, without having to be responsible for everyone around you?

I’m certain that blue eyes would taste amazing, much better than brown ones. Especially George’s eyes. I have no scientific evidence to prove this, but to me there’s nothing appetizing about brown.

woah woah woah. First, brown eyes are lovely. Second, I am not convinced eyes would even have a different flavor. That is a google I'm not doing, I don't want to end up on a list.

gleams, wet with his saliva, all traces of skin and fat and flesh gone. “If you still want it, you can have it,” he says playfully. “I even cleaned it for you.” I shudder. Sweat drips down my back. You want it. You want it so badly. I move my mouth, but my voice doesn’t work.

oh this was worse than the first fish eye. but worse I mean more unsettling.