12 Days of Writing

Day 8 - crime

Prompt: You're reluctantly attending a destination wedding out of sheer guilt. The bride did you a big favour once and you didn't know how to say no. You arrive at the venue and notice commotion. You overhear a conversation as you walk through the congested crowd: the groom is dead and the bride-to-be is nowhere to be found.

~~~

Have you ever met a person so likeable, that you just have to be friends with them? That when they tell a joke it's always a funny one and when they drag you along to a concert there's always a good band playing? One of my best friends is exactly like that. There hasn't been a single time that I have regretted going out with her and she has done things for me that I perhaps would have never done for her, were it not that she is such a likeable person.

And it's probably because of this likeableness that she has finally found something she like likes, or rather someone.

I get out of my car and slam the door behind me. I have had it for over five years and it looks rather out of place between the chic black and red of the other cars on the parking lot of the wedding venue.

My little black dress might give the impression that I'm going to a funeral, but I really didn't have anything else I could wear. I never go to these kinds of things. I wasn't even planning on going to this one, but my friend insisted that I came and how could I say no to her after what she's done for me?

It all happened a couple years back. I lived in an apartment with my then-boyfriend when I got into a huge fight with him. There was screaming and eventually even hitting. In a desperate act I ran from the house and asked my friend if I could stay the night at hers. Eventually, my ex got a contact ban and we never heard from him again.

So here I am, dressed for a funeral, getting out of my cheap car, hoping nobody will talk to me.

The moment I walk into the venue I notice something's wrong. The chairs are all there, the wedding cake is already stationed on one of the tables, but all the guests, and I mean every single on of them, seems to be on the verge of crying and I don't mean the tears of happiness kind of crying.

Everywhere I walk I hear whispers.

"He is dead, just stabbed, my poor baby."

"Oh and the poor bride, whatever will she do?" Says another.

"Haven't you heard? The bride is gone, she just vanished right after it happened." Says a third.

Turns out I was dressed for the right occasion after all.

~~~

The police has arrived, nobody is to leave the premises before they are interrogated. My turn was over an hour ago, so I can leave if I wish to, but I can't get it over my heart to leave before knowing if she's okay. Everybody seems to have their own thought about the motives of the killer, but that the bride killed him? That's a given for most of them.

Not for me. She would never do anything like that. Perhaps she just saw the body and ran away in shock? Or she accidentally locked herself in the bathroom again. But her being a killer? That wasn't possible.

I wander around the forgotten chairs and tables. The wedding cake is still sweating on one of them and I absentmindedly take one of the raspberries and put them in my mouth. The clock ticks on, but still I refuse to leave. Perhaps I'm in shock. Should I get a blanket?

And that's how I spend the morning, wandering around, eating the food meant for the feast after. At one moment, I spot a camera, probably left there by the photographer.

The first few pictures are pretty, I wouldn't call them beautiful. The cake, some flowers, the empty chairs waiting for their guests. Then some pictures of the bride and groom getting ready. The groom's suit, the bride's dress, the veil, covered in red roses.

A tear makes its way down my cheek, when I think about how pretty she would have looked.

I click to the next picture, the church, decorated with flowers, all lilies. Then, a picture of... I stop dead in my tracks and click to the previous picture. Neither the bride, nor the groom were religious, they explicitly stated that their ceremony wouldn't be held in a church, but why then, is there a picture of one?

There are more pictures. A ring I vaguely recognise, the way towards the stone altar, the bride, scared and tied to a chair, her once-white-dress covered in spots of red.

Then, a picture of a wall splattered with red paint.

'She took away my chance at love, so I took away hers.'

And I realise that I know who the murder is.

~~~

The police won't listen to me and for the second time in my life, I decide to go to her myself in a desperate act.

The church is easy enough to find, since there is only one of them nearby enough. The lilies had started withering in the sun next to the open door and as I walk closer, I see that they have been hanging there for at least a couple of days.

The inside of the church looks too innocent for the people inside. A murderer, a saviour and someone who is about to be both.

"Glad you could finally make it, sweetheart. Fitting venue, don't you think?"

I ignore him. Instead I focus my eyes on my friend, tied up, but awake. She manages to give a small smile.

There's the sound of a gun being loaded. I duck. He misses. The church benches barely give any protection, but they give me a chance to hide.

That's why he doesn't notice me appearing behind him. Nor does he notice me going for the gun. I grab it. He shoots.

Then, absolute silence. The lily in his breast pocket turns red. He looks at me. I look back. His knees give out.

I'm the last one standing.

998 words