My Aunt had always been the type to daydream. Growing up, she’d always talk for hours upon hours about how Cinderella was her favorite story. She’d tell me that one day I’d find a prince that would sweep me off my feet. The little dreamer that I was, I listened closely every time she would talk about the characteristics of a man worthy of being My “Prince”.
Sadly, she had a lot of trouble with dating. I watched her “princes” come in and out of her life throughout my childhood. Whenever a new man came into her life, she always made him out to be the one that would give her the Happily Ever After she so desperately craved.
As I grew older, I started to question her logic, seeing as the men who walked into her life were not the handsome princes she would describe to me as a child. Yet, she pushed me away when I questioned it, always describing her exes as “frogs in prince clothes.” I didn’t expect her to find the partner she wanted, little did I know that she would push any limit to find one.
It was a cozy fall evening, I had just come home from working overtime at my local Gamestop. I lazily kicked my shoes off at the garage door and sat down in the front room only to hear pounding at the back door.
I knew the moment I heard it that it was my aunt. She always entered our home through the back door that led to the patio, never the front door. She usually gently tapped on the glass window, but today was different.
She pounded the door with such force that the sudden sound scared me out of my seat. I huffed over and unlocked the door, only for her to bolt inside the moment the door swung open. “ISABELLE OH ISABELLE! YOU WON’T BELIEVE THIS!” she howled, shaking me by my shoulders. Her long brown hair flowing with her violent motions.
“What? What is it?” I pushed against her, trying to keep my balance.
She lifted her hand to show a shiny platinum band, with four shimmering stones in the middle. The engraving on the side shows the words “Meine Liebe” in a fancy cursive font.
I froze dead in my tracks. A growing list of questions clogged my thoughts. She raved about her exciting milestone for what seemed like hours, only for me to catch the gist of her rambles.
She had met a young German man during her travels to see our older family members in Munich. The mystery man had swept her off her feet, and proposed to her within a few months of dating.
“We want to get married as FAST as possible!”. She sang proudly.
I slumped back in my chair, my head in my hands.
“Shouldn’t you wait a little longer?” I rasped.
She gave me an angry look.
“THIS IS MY ONE CHANCE!” She shrieked at me, making me jump back. “If you keep acting like this you are not coming ANYWHERE near my wedding!”
I felt my face grow wet with sweat and tears at the sudden ultimatum. She wouldn’t give me any information into who he was or how they met, no matter how much I pried, i was met with threats and her stomping away in a huff. None, however, truly came to fruition.
Preparations came and went, and the wedding day came. Not even 3 months after her announcement.
It was an early morning, the sun had shined through the cracks in my blinds, waking me from my peaceful slumber. I glanced over to the wedding invitation that had come in the mail, the bride and grooms names glistened in the light. As I sat up, though, something stood out to me.
The Groom’s name was covered in black ink, unintelligible from most angles. I felt a cold sweat wash over me. Something felt so wrong here. Why would his name be scribbled out like that??
I tried to brush it off, seeing as how my dad disliked the notion of my aunt marrying so quickly. He must have scrawled the groom’s name out in anger. My parents were rushing to get ready, clothes were strewn about their bedroom floor. I was too busy trying to collect my thoughts as they quickly prepared.
The entire drive to the church was a blur, and walking inside from the parking lot felt like an eternity. The main hall leading to the garden stretched on forever from my point of view.
Finally, we reached the door to the garden. The large windowed door swung open to the floral fantasy adorned in white ribbons and tapestries. The large blob of family members that had arrived alongside us began to merge into a single file line as they all headed to their seats.
My parents and I were pointed to the first row. I looked around, trying to see if I could distract myself from the intense anxiety that was gripping me, only to notice small drips of red on the sides of the ribbons that were tied to the pews.
“The hell?!” I said, shuttering.
My eyes met the groom at the front. The groom, instead of standing strong on his own two feet, was instead sitting in a chair. The black top hat he was wearing covering his eyes.
The stained ribbons had snaked their way all the way to the front, around the poles of the flower arch, ending at the groom’s feet. I noticed quickly that the ribbons had circled like vines up the side of the chair, and had knotted themselves to the groom’s arms. I felt my blood run cold.
The wedding began, My beautiful Aunt making her way down the aisle, the long train of her dress dragging behind her.
“This isn’t right.” I mumbled to myself.
I gazed closely at her dress as she passed by, sitting down across from her groom. As she passed, I noticed the same crimson stains that had been on the ribbons on her long train. Small pieces of it were torn, covered with glued lace.
The priest began to speak. His words were muted in my mind. I paid attention to the groom, reaching over to the side of the pew and gently tugged the ribbon that adorned it. I noticed the knots gluing the groom to his chair were starting to come loose as I kept tugging, each tug making him slowly slump towards me.
I put more force into my tugs, each one moving his face towards the pews. The hat slowly began to slip from his head, revealing gray colored skin underneath. The next tug revealed his eye. An empty husk, grayed and covered with a thin film membrane, dried blood underneath the socket, resembling tears. I jumped out of my seat.
Everyone’s eyes locked on me, a cold silence filling the garden. I choked on my words, garbled noises exiting my throat. After a moment, I felt the adrenaline hit, and the words burst from my mouth.
“THE GROOM IS DEAD!”
The silence shattered, erupting with screams, the ground shook as terrified people fled the scene. I was overwhelmed by the chaos, frozen to my stance as the area emptied itself of life.
Eventually after a few moments of sheer terror, I gathered the strength to move. I began to flee, making my way down the middle of the isles, only to hear the clacking of heels behind me. I turned, a quick flash of silver greeted my gaise, crimson taking its place.
I felt my blood vessels tearing apart one by one. My left eye was pulled free from its socket, The eyeball crucified upon the edge of the blade. The beautiful bride stood over me with a hateful look in her eyes, her virgin white gown now stained with my blood.
“I won’t let you ruin my happy ending.”