The Perfect Wedding

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The day dawned bright and shiny. It was fall and the weather could not have been more appropriate for getting married. Jacob was so happy. His darling little girl was getting married today. Everything was perfect. The chapel was adorned with beautiful fuchsias and lilacs. The tables were laid with ornate table cloths. The sound of the three cellos soothed everything into a peaceful stability. The smell of freshly baked food wafted through the hall. It was going to be the prefect wedding.

He wished his wife was here. It had been 12 years since that fateful morning when he found her dead in their bathroom from an overdose of sleeping pills. The time had not dulled the pain though. If anything, it had just managed to expand the void left by her death. But today, he vowed, he won’t let that mar his spirits. His darling little daughter was getting married after all. Everything was going perfectly as planned. He had found a nice little gentleman for her. Jacob was sure that he would provide for his daughter very well. She will be content.

He had tried to make his daughter’s life as easy as possible. Growing without a mother was one of the most difficult things, he had realized. But he had given his best shot. His daughter had turned into this beautiful, independent, young woman from the rebellious teenager that she was. Okay, to be honest, she had still retained her rebellious streak. But time would change that. Getting married would change that.”She is just 23 after all”, he thought to himself, “She will realize the wisdom of the decisions he had made for her. She had to see it some day.”

He remembered the argument they had had last night.

“He treats me like a kid, Dad! I dunno if I wanna marry him. Give me some time. Let me get to know him”, she cried.

He walked to her, gave a peck on her tear-wet cheek and just smiled. “It’s all gonna be okay, sweety. Trust me!”, he told her.

That memory left a fleeting ghost of a smile on his face as he walked towards the bridal dressing room. It was time. As he walked into the room, he found her taking a nap on the bed, all veil-clad and stammeringly beautiful the way only brides can be. ‘My poor baby’, he thought, ‘She must be so tired’. But as he walked towards her, all color drained from his face. She was holding a vial of pills in her left hand and in her dying, bridal beauty all she reminded him was of his long-lost wife and her fatal end.

The Broken Bride

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She was happy just thinking about what she wanted. She wanted a spectacular wedding. A groom who would dote on her. A mother who would cry as she walked down the aisle. A father who would look at her with utmost affection as he walked her down the aisle. The melody of the harp soothing her nerves. And the red roses all around.

She was happy thinking about what she wanted. But she knew she could never have what she wanted. They had made sure of that. The military, the soldiers, the bombings. They had taken away all that she had. Her perfect groom, her loving parents, her best friends and everyone else who even looked familiar. All that was left was the wait. The wait for the next bombing, the next night when the hungry soldiers would come to hunt, the next time she would actually have food to eat.

But she dreamt and thought and wondered. And she was happy when she did that. She knew that her days were numbered. Until the day it all ended. The pain that was beyond tolerance, the hunger that never ceased, the darkness that never lost.

And she saw a flash. Something close to a million cameras being flashed at her. And she saw them all. The groom, the parents, the friends. And she was happy. The broken bride was happy.

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This post has been written for picture it & write  by ermilia