The Bride

How far would you go to get back the one you love?

The rain seemed to go on without stopping for hours.
The showers came down in sideways sheets.
She waited patiently underneath a large oak tree,
which shielded her from the rain.
She had waitied for the sun to set and the caretaker to leave.
She was decked out in her billowing white wedding gown,
veil pulled down over her face which was tear streaked.
It had been 6 months since he left and her devotion showed no signs of wavering.
Why did you take yourself and not me with you? she wondered.
This was a question she had asked herself time and time again
to no avail.
She remembered when it first happened and she was livid with him.
How cowardly
How selfish
she thought.
The wedding gown she wore they had purchased together just 2 months prior to his….leaving.
She firmly gripped her shovel and wished the downpour would cease.
Her love would wait for her though.
Just as she had wait for him.
She began to hum a tune they would always sing together.
As if the fates were listening the clouds broke up
and the downpour was reduced to a trickle.
She trudged through the soggy grass and dirt
over to him. She plopped down on her knees.
Her intended wedding dress now stained
with wet earth.
She lay her head against his tombstone and sighed.
The rain started again heavier than before,
but she did not care.
She stood up and plunged the spade into the
wet ground, forcefully scooping out clumps of mud.
Breathing heavily, she cursed him
for being selfish and the sky for its showers.
She dug as if was the only thing that mattered.
She dug until she hit the pine box in which he lay.
It seemed to take forever but not even the blisters that formed on her hands
or a storm would keep her from seeing her heart again.
The lid was raised and she wept at the mottled shriveled
shell of her beloved.
“Dammit Chris !” She shrieked and plunged the spade into
the corpse’s throat. She did it again until the head seperated from the neck.
She firmly grasped the remaining hairs on his scalp and snatched it out of the coffin.
Out of the hole she climbed, gripping the head close to her bosom.
With the head in one hand and the spade in the other,slowly she trudged to her car and gingerly placed the head in the passenger seat.
She started the car and headed home.
At a four way stop the light turned red and she gazed over
longingly at the head.
It was good to have him back.
It was good to be near him again.
“You know if you asked me to marry you again just as you are I would do it in a heartbeat.”
she said aloud.
She lifted the head and placed her lips to his black shriveled pout.
The light turned green.
Her lips were still firmly planted on his, or what remained of his
when the honking 18 wheeler ripped into the side of her small sedan.
The impact sent them flying into a tree culminating in a marriage of twisted steel,
and blood.

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