Something I've been working on:The ungodly hour

PrologueThat son of a bitch. That cock sucker….bastard- prick, jerk….son of a bitch.
I felt my fingers numbing around the carefully folded white paper resting in my hand. Maybe if I pressed it harder it wouldn’t be real. In an act of magic it would disappear, a girl could always hope.
No, I stopped myself, if an act magic was going to take place let’s not waste it on that. No. I would much rather for him to go impotent. That would be good and fair. Themis,
herself would be proud.
How was it possible for six non-consequential words to bring the world down to your feet? I was pretty sure that normally those words- when separate- wouldn’t mean a thing. But when arranged in such order in such day…it was sheer luck I was still standing.
Everything felt surreal to me…as though I was a spectator at the back of my throbbing head
but nothing more. My body, mind and soul were irrevocably disconnected. Time
was irrelevant, my movements little better than lethargic and my traitorous mind
was wandering back and forth without a coherent pattern to follow. I stopped
staring at my unfamiliar, trembling hands to look afore me. Somehow I had successfully
managed to avoid doing so until now. But nothing could have ever prepared me
for what I saw; my stomach knotted in understandable response. I tried to
picture the crowd naked…that only increased the speed of the bile running its
way up.
My gaze hadn’t been raised completely when a sudden thought struck me. It’s not
odd for a residence with a vantage view to be priced higher than those looking
to a wall. Right now…I would pay double for having a wall in front of me instead of this. You see, at the altar there was very little that could not be seen. I could even easily discern the stark pity shinning in the many eyes
focusing on me. For me. I hated it. It wasn’t welcomed. I didn’t want it nor
needed it, damn it.
How could he?
I shook my head, refusing to go there. Not when there were so many people
watching my downfall.
“Can I have your attention, please? I have an announcement to make.” I said this in
a steady tone, forcing strength and conviction through my gritted teeth. Even
then, I felt tears starting to build behind my eyes, my throat was threatening
with closing in on me….choking down the words. But I had to do this. Only then
could I give in to the pain consuming my core.
Bastard. Hear, hear! Let it be known
that from now on he would be acknowledged as Lord Voldemort. The unmentionable
one. That or the bastard. I refused to call him any other way.
So many eyes. So many freaking eyes were watching me. I pressed even harder the
paper in my hand as though that was his sorry neck. I smiled in dark
satisfaction at that.
Raising my chin, “The wedding is off. Feel free to show yourself the way to the reception
and stuff yourself up. After all, everything is paid for so let’s not waste
it.” I started to march down the aisle. Not turning around to lock eyes with
anyone. I’d have loved to walk in a faster pace but that would have required
taking off my high heels…and if I was going to keep something, pride and shoes
seemed fine and dandy with me. How very Sex and the City of me to associate
pride with high heels. But there it was…I refused to give him what little I had
left.
The swoosh among the congregation didn’t have me long to wait. And the worse of it
all was that all of these people were here for him but I was the one left behind
to faze them. To sort out the mess. Damn it. Damn him. I barely knew a few of
the vultures sitting here. And those few who did know me looked elsewhere as
though I carried the bubonic pest in my gaze.
“I saw it coming.” Said a lady on the front row. The
older women sitting next to her nodded her agreement. She bobbed her head
enthusiastically. I wished for her head to fall off her neck. That would teach
her.
In a spit of anger I wanted to yell at them: “then why the fuck didn’t you say a
thing, Betty White?”
No, that wasn’t right, I chastised myself. I didn’t like this woman. I liked Betty
White. Nobody could hate that particular old lady. She was awesome. Hm. I wished
I could be her right now, she would know what to do. And if not she would at
least keep interesting company…Like Hugh Jackman or Ryan Reynolds.
“Can you blame him, really? I might have done the same thing had I been him.” Said
a chubby guy, who I vaguely recognized as one of the college friends of the
Unmentionable One.
I sneered mentally at the guy, raising my chin even higher, “Well, the joke is on you, frat boy. I wouldn’t have given you even the
time of the day. Jerk.” I said under my breath. I would like to say his
words didn’t hurt me. But they cut deep, and at the moment I didn’t have enough
strength left in me to lie, much less, to myself. Maybe after a hard-core week
of self-pity I’ll have the strength to start picking up the pieces and put up a
front. Smile 24-7 until the inside matched the forced-smiley outside.
My
mind started wandering of its own accord...again. But this time I knew where it
was headed. Apathy for the bastard should have been rolling off me in strong
waves. The rot feeling was definitely there, at the pit of my stomach, which apparently
was taking the whole brunt of the event…But some of that anger was
self-directed. I started questioning if there was something wrong with me. If
there was something I should have done differently? As stupid as it sounded. But
that was that.
Damn
it, I didn’t want to think about it but….his nerve baffled the mind, really. Questions
and more questions started pouring from somewhere deep in my soul. As though
the thing was bleeding profusely and now couldn’t be stopped. It’s just that… He
could have talked to me. I would have listened. Instead he decided to give me
the silence of his absence…For he didn’t considerate necessary to explain why.
And to think I approached him nothing but a month ago and gave him a way out. I
did so even when it cost me a part of my heart that will never be the same. But
I couldn’t pretend that things hadn’t changed after the incident. I wasn’t the
same one…neither was he for that matter. So I went to him and told him that it
wasn’t too late to stop everything. That we could have a quiet arrangement and
that I wouldn’t think less of him. I didn’t want to get married for the wrong
reasons. I didn’t need an honorable man standing next to me for the rest of my
life. I wanted a husband who loved me for me… not because of a compromise. A
man who cherished the time spent with me.
The
bastard looked me in the eye and told me I was crazy for bringing that up. That
he loved me and nothing would change that. And that I needed to get it into my
thick skull that we belonged together, that nothing would change that…that he
was going nowhere without me, he said. So long for that, right?
Working
on a faster pace, I made my way out of the church, leaving behind the twilight
zone. Trying idly to outrun the turmoil of my sadistic mind which was settled
on destroying what little pride I had left. But my mind wouldn’t shut up
regardless of how far I went or how hard I ran. One thing was for certain: Mind
can be such a bitch.
I
felt so utterly lonely…the day I was supposed to get married. The day I wasn’t
supposed to be alone.
When
the doors opened I welcomed the bitter cold hitting my face. I stopped at the front
stairs of the church to breathe but soon found out I couldn’t. Not with
everything so close…so fresh. So I kept on running. Pressing one last time the
paper folded in my hand, I finally let it slip out of my tight hold. I didn’t
need it anymore. I knew the words by memory.
“I can’t marry you. Sorry. Keith.”