(Listen to: Tommee Profitt Ft Fleurie - Wake Me Up)
My vision was blank. I kept hearing my cries and my screams.
"I need to see my mother, please. It's an emergency!"
"Mother"
"Mother, your daughter is here!"
"What is so wrong with wanting to see my sick mother?"
"Mother!!! "
Every word repeated itself in Echoes. The sunlight hit my eyes, and that's when I finally woke up. Looking around, it was the hotel room.
I looked around, but Marcus was not there. I could've sworn I saw him being the last person who caught me before opening that door.
Wait! What if that was the door she was in? Damn it!
"Ahh sss," I hissed at the sudden pain that hit my head like a brick. My eyes were still weak. I didn't know what they injected into my body but It was strong. My head was still spinning.
The room seemed bright and beautiful, but I didn't have any loved one to share it with. I tried to touch the ground with my feet, but I realised I was still weak. I laid on the bed once more.
Pray.
Don't pray.
The two voices attacked and I was left in a dilemma. Like choosing a man full of love but no money or choosing a man full of money but no love.
What was the reason for praying anyway? It was clear a decision was made for me. The decision to marry the guy full of money but no love.
Praying wouldn't turn things around. God couldn't even let me see my mother one more time before the wedding.
He couldn't even let Mother live in peace. If what the doctors said was true, it meant there was very little chance for her to survive.
The door suddenly knocked, and the blonde-haired maid behind the door opened it and got inside.
She wore a professional smile on her face before opening her lips to speak, "Good morning, ma'am. The stylist and make-up artists are on their way."
I looked at her and nodded. I didn't even have the energy to fake a smile right now, "Thank you,"
"Good luck with your wedding, ma'am," She opened the door behind her and left the room.
Good luck, she said. I smiled to myself. Not even good luck could save me from this marriage.
The hotel room now had me, a stylist and a make-up artist, doing their best turning me into a princess. The makeup was heavy but I had to deal with it. I mean, I looked like a princess after all.
"You look beautiful now," The make-up artist seemed more excited than I was. I faked a smile so I did not look rude.
"Look at yourself now," She continued. I stood up from the seat and took myself to the side of the long princess-like mirror.
My wedding dress, a masterpiece of ivory silk and lace, cascaded around me like a flowing river of dreams.
The upper part was like a canvas painted with intricate designs, and a dainty tiara perched atop my hair, which had been styled with utmost care.
I stood there, a living masterpiece, a vision that could inspire dreams in the hearts of young girls everywhere. A dream which to me was a nightmare.
As I examined my reflection, my eyes revealed a different story. The delicate lace sleeves, the sparkling gemstones, and the flowing train were all rendered meaningless in the absence of the one person who should have been standing beside me – my mother
I closed my eyes. The last place I'd go to at least see a glimpse of her face. The darkness my eyes provided gave me the illusions I desperately needed.
My mother was there beside me, wearing a milky white dress as it was her favourite colour. Her smile lit up my little world.
"My dear. I am so proud of you," Her voice was low yet powerful. I felt tears flowing down my cheeks.
"You can do this,"
I nodded. Then another person appeared. The brown eyes matched the colour of his suit.
"My love. Finally, it's here," His voice, deep and husky. A voice I had been longing to hear all this time. A voice I sacrificed to save my mother.
"Just don't think of anything when you're there. Think of me," His eyes shined so brightly as he smiled at me, sadness hovering on his delicate face.
My chest was so heavy at this point. I did the only thing I could do. I nodded.
All of that went in vain with a soft hand touching my shoulder, "Camilla, dear," I gasped, now my eyes were open, "It's time,"
The make-up artist looked at me and saw the tears that covered my cheeks, "Oh, honey," She gave me a deep, tight hug, "It's okay. Everything is going to be okay,"
She pulled from the hug and looked at me straight in the eyes, "This too shall pass. Now let's doll up our princess a little more."
She smiled and she opened her make-up bag once more.
In a few minutes, the door was knocked. The wedding was going to take place down the hall. It was now time to knock ties with the devil.
As I walked down the aisle toward Marcus, my steps felt like a slow march toward an unknown fate. The grand hall, adorned with opulent decorations, seemed to mock me with its grandeur, a stark contrast to the heaviness in my heart.
The soft glow of the chandeliers cast an ethereal light upon the scene, but to me, it felt like a shroud enveloping my soul.
As I approached Marcus, my pulse quickened, and I could feel every beat thudding in my chest like a relentless drum, echoing the growing tension within me.
The guests' eyes were filled with joy and excitement, but I couldn't share in their enthusiasm. I felt like an actress in a tragic play, forced to play a role I never auditioned for.
Each step towards Marcus was a step away from the life I had dreamed of with Pablo, a life filled with love and happiness. Instead, it led me deeper into a tangled web of deceit, with the weight of betrayal pulling at my very core.
The floral arrangements exuded a sweet fragrance that mingled with the faint scent of my mother's favourite perfume, adding an almost suffocating layer of nostalgia to the air.
It was a reminder of what I was sacrificing - not just my happiness but also the chance to see my mother's radiant smile as she walked me down the aisle to marry the man I loved.
As Marcus extended his hand to mine, the cold touch felt like ice against my skin, a chilling reminder of the void that now existed between us.
I could feel the gaze of the guests upon us, witnessing what they believed to be a joyous union, unaware of the turmoil beneath the surface.
As the moment arrived, I found myself standing beside Marcus. The priest's words hung in the air like a heavy cloud, and I couldn't help but steal a glance at Marcus, who was beaming with excitement, seemingly oblivious to the turmoil raging within me.
"Do you, Marcus, take Camilla to be your lawfully wedded wife, to love and cherish her, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, for as long as you both shall live?" The priest's voice was steady and comforting had it been Pablo that I was marrying.
"Yes, I do!" Marcus responded with unwavering enthusiasm, his eyes locked on mine, and a smile that seemed to promise the world.
My gaze drifted away, my eyes welling up with tears. Flashes of memories with Pablo flooded my mind, like a film reel of the love we once shared.
Our laughter by the shore, the warmth of his touch as we held hands, and the dreams we had woven together – they all played like a beautiful yet painful symphony in my heart.
The priest turned to me, his kind eyes holding mine gently. "Do you, Camilla, take Marcus to be your lawfully wedded husband, to love and cherish him, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, for as long as you both shall live?"
Lastly, the memory of a place we thought we'd go together.
" The cenote. That's the adventure we will do only when we get married," We were sitting under the tree, the view of the ocean vivid in our eyes.
"But that's the place I'm eager to visit the most,". I cried.
" Then you must also be eager to marry me," His smile was brighter than the skies and the ocean.
A memory that brought only vision but not reality.
I finally whispered to myself, "Goodbye, Pablo."
The words were soft, but they carried the weight of a heart saying farewell to a love that couldn't be. It was a painful farewell to the dreams we once had, a farewell to the future that would never be.
With a heavy heart, I managed to say, "Yes, I do."