This is for scrittore18's October Challenge. Enjoy.

Light. Music. Blaring music. Dancing. More light. More blaring music.

Amy Cahill needed a break from her obnoxious relatives, just for a moment...or more wine. Her head pounded with the beat of Jonah Wizard's music, and the lights seemed to flash before her eyes, and the room spun.

Her tight black party dress seemed to squeeze her in, and why, oh why, had she let Natalie to convince her to wear those heels? She clicked her way towards the refreshment table, where there were several drinks. Grabbing a small Dixie cup she poured herself a small glass of wine. Downing it quickly, she relished the burn as it tore down her throat. She drank three more, before the familiar light-headed feeling washed over her, and her vision seemed to go back to normal.

Amy knew she was getting drunk, but she didn't care. The past few weeks had been so stressful, with Fiske and Nellie acting weird every time she said anything, and Dan retreating to his room constantly. Now, all she wanted to do was live a little, party, and peace out, as Jonah Wizard would say.

Amy also knew she'd wake up the next morning with a horrific hangover, but she didn't care about that either. She was tired of Fiske saying to her, "Think about the future, Amy, girl, don't live in the moment." She'd had enough with living in the future. As leader of the Cahills, it was hard enough to live in the moment, let alone the future.

She smiled, and twirled around, bumping into Jonah. "Hey, Ames." He said. "What's up?"

Amy could smell the alcohol on his breath, but she didn't care. He was probably just as drunk as she was. "Hey!" She said, feeling flirty. Where was Jake when she needed him? Jake was always one to flirt...maybe a kiss, or something more here or there, and neither of them cared if they went back to normal life afterwards...without each other, of if they stayed together.

After flirting with Jonah for a while, Amy realized she needed to pee. Really bad. "Jonah?" She asked. "Where's the bathroom?"

Jonah's house was huge, and it was impossible to go anywhere without getting lost.

Jonah looked at her, his eyes slightly glazed. "Around the corner." He said, his words slightly slurred. "You can't miss it."

Amy knew she could miss it, but she didn't want to ask Jonah again, so she headed off in the general direction.

Her head spun, and she dreaded tomorrow. She would have an awful hangover. Reaching a hand up to her eyes, she rubbed her eyelid. Rounding a corner, she stepped into the luscious bathroom. She sat down heavily on the closed toilet, and sighed.

She stood up and looked at herself in the mirror. Her eyes were bloodshot, and her hair was snarled. She was a sight, and she looked like she'd just woken up out of bed, and tossed on some clothes (that somehow matched) and threw on a tad makeup, not bothering to brush her hair.

She ran a finger throw her hair, and frowned at the many times it got caught in a snarl. Opening one of the drawers, she dug around until she found a comb, with which she brushed her hair, until it at least looked acceptable.

She looked at her makeup, which was smudged. But not that it mattered, seeing as her eyes were bloodshot. She stared at herself in the mirror, and reapplied some lipstick, and then, opening the door, slipped back out into the smoky blue haze that was Jonah Wizard's idea of a party.

She began walking back towards the place where she thought the room was, but realized she had taken a wrong turn. The thought of wandering around in Jonah's huge house, with other drunk Cahills, was not her idea of fun.

It would be hours before anyone realized she was missing. Yay. She smiled grimly, trying to think of which way to go. Finally she decided that there was no wrong way. Besides, she told herself, It's possible she could be heading in the right direction. There might be a back exit of some sort.

Her drunken mind couldn't think farther than that, and she continued walking the hallways, her eyes wandering, searching, for the right turn.

And then she heard the scream. It rose, higher and higher, and Amy smiled as she heard it. Thank you! She thought. She followed the sound of the scream, but as she got closer, she realized how very terrified it seemed.

Then she was in the smoky ballroom, and she saw her Cahill relatives standing stock still around a screaming Nellie, who was kneeling on the ground, around something.

Amy's breath caught in her throat, and she ran forward to where they were standing. "What happened?" She asked, her speech slurred.

And then she gasped. Sammy was lying on the floor, in a pool of blood, a sword stuck in his chest.

Natalie turned to her. "I think you know, Amy, exactly what happened."

Natalie turned her head, and pulled the sword out of Sammy's chest. It slid out smoothly, while Amy watched, horrified. She prayed this was just a hallucination.

Natalie pulled out the sword. "Look at this, Amy." She smiled. "Doesn't this seem familiar?"

Amy gasped. The sword Natalie was holding was one of the ones they had got from the Racco House. A little while ago, Dan had inscribed her initials on one, and his initials on the other.

The sword Natalie was holding belonged to her! And it just been stuck in Sammy's chest! The sword had been stolen, and used to kill Sammy. Someone was trying to blame her, for Sammy Mourad's death!

She looked around her, not knowing what to say. How did you deny something like that, when the evidence pointed to you?

And Hamilton turned and asked her a question. "Where were you, all this time?You only showed up, after Sammy's...death."

And...the plot thickens.

Just kidding. This sucks. Like, I have never written a mystery like this before, and I am failing miserably.

Guys, just to tell you, I don't know who killed Sammy, like, I haven't even picked out a person yet. So...don't speculate until I decide.

I'm kidding, you can speculate, I don't care...but I can't answer your question, because I don't even know the answer.