•The runaway Bride.•
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(Mature contents. Please, do not read if it triggers you.)
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I sit in a room filled with bridal accessories. There's a beautiful wedding dress lying atop an old, antique rocking chair.
I take a look at the wedding dress, and just stare at it.
Even though, it is one of the most beautiful wedding gown I've ever seen, I despise it.
-The beads running down from the next to the back. The backless gown gets covered by the long veil. The beautiful (yet, fake) roses spread throughout the gown.
There are hints of sky-purple and velvet-red in the white gown.
It is indeed, a beautiful gown.
But there's something about it, making me despise the dress. The longer I stare at the gown, the more I feel like burning this dress until it is within ashes.
I'm snapped from my thoughts, when I feel a large pair of arms engulf me in hug. Hugging me from my back, as romantic as it seems;
I would've loved it, if only it weren't for the person hugging me.
He snuggles his head deeper into my neck, not minding my hair on way.
He glided his lips along the curve of my neck, earning a sharp intake of air for me.
I forced my eyes shut.
Please, don't.
Small butterflies started erupting in my stomach, and I clenched my fists, tighter.
A Whirlpool of emotions started to flood over me. Trying to catch a breath,
I breathlessly ask; "What are you doing?"
He didn't reply. Instead; continued what he was doing. I could feel my legs become numb, as his lips became more demanding by my neck. Yet, he wouldn't stop.
I Clenched my fists tighter in a grip. I bit the inside of my cheeks, as he continued his slow torture. He placed warm kisses in the crook of my neck, causing goosebumps all over my skin. I could feel his kisses filled with lust.
Not any genuine affectionate feelings, but lust. Nothing more than that.
"Stop. Please." -I say, as in a whisper.
I don't have the strength to speak louder. I feel weak at this moment.
He stopped and turned me to face him. He looked at me for a second.
He could see my teary eyes, probably the reason why he decided to stop.
But only for a brief moment.
He chuckled, saying; "You know, we're getting married tomorrow?"
As he hugged me. And slowly, yet softly put his lips on mine.
It was a simple kiss in the beginning, but it soon turned into something else.
He carried me in a bridal manner to the nearby desk, his gaze not leaving me. And once again, crashed his lips on mine. Soon, on my cheeks and jawline. Not forgetting about my neck, either.
I put my hands by his chest to stop him.
"Please, Chris... Stop it." -I say.
He stares at me.
"But, Babe—?" -He starts.
But I cut him off; "No. Please, I don't want to."
He sighs, running a hand through his hair.
"Fine, I'll let you be."
-I could feel the annoyance and irritation in his voice.
Saying so, he leaves the room, fuming in anger. Closing the door with a thud.
What kind of hell is this?
. . .
Not more than 3 hours is left for the wedding.
There's a dreadful feeling in my heart, and I swear, I've tried every nook and crook to find a way to escape. I don't know what could happen to me later, but that's if I'm able to escape this place in one piece.
Of course, I would've loved to get married to Chris, if it were two years ago.
But now, I'm not changing my mind. I want to escape from this hell.
Sure, No one can deny that he's a handsome man, exceeding a height of 6 feet tallness. A slightly long, manly face, straight eyebrows, a Roman nose and a thin lip. It constituted a brilliant face.
Even with these God-gifted features, he's still a self-centered, arrogant man. Not to forget; An abuser.
. . .
40 minutes more, til the wedding takes place.
I've put on the wedding gown.
And the fact that my pale sick face, doesn't even show a sign of its presence, I gag.
I stand in front of the mirror, staring at my reflection. There's really no expression on my face. I continue to stare at the mirror,
when I don't realize Chris entering the room.
Once again, He engulfs me in a hug, snapping me out of my thoughts.
"You look really, really beautiful. God!, how can someone soo beautiful, belong to me?! I'm grateful for you, existing in my life. You know, I love you?!" -He says.
I force a smile, and turn to face him.
He's wearing a dark blue suit, with a Lapel pin vintage, double lion brooch.
We both stare at each other, in silence.
He leans forward for a kiss. But I divert my head the other direction.
He moves back a bit.
"Why are you pushing me away right now? Aren't we getting married, like; in just a few minutes?!" -He asks, annoyed.
I let out a tired, fake smile.
"After we get married, I'm all yours. Why don't you be a little more patient?" -I say.
He smiles, understandingly.
He let's go of me, and turns to leave.
But stops, turns to face me, and says, in a deep, husky voice;
"You're going to be all mine. By today."
-with a sinister smirk on his face.
His words send a shiver down my spine.
I look away.
I need to escape, no matter what.
. . .
Standing next to the dean, Chris waited patiently for his future wife, to walk down the aisle. He waited.
But she isn't coming.
Did she go to the washroom?
He'll wait.
5 minutes turned to 15.
The guests were sharing uncomfortable gazes with each other.
Whispering to each other.
'What is going on?' 'Where is the bride?'
'Is she going to come?'
Chris could feel himself going crazy. He called on to the closest man, asking him to go search for Michelle.
The man ran out of the reception, only to come back in a few minutes, with a horrified look on his face.
"She's not here."
That's it. Chris has had enough. He runs out of the reception, leaving the guests startled.
Out to his father he ran, who was attending a few important guests.
His father turned to look at him.
Chris stares at his father. Tears forming at the corner of his eyes.
His father understood what happened. No words were needed for the Father and Son.
Mr. Dave Millers started barking orders around, as the guests, who were now all out of the reception room, whispering to each other. Everyone had a horrified look on their face. -Did this actually happen right now?
'Did she actually run away?'
One thing is for sure;
Yes, she did run away.
And she's not coming back.
. . .