Written in Ink

Nine | Reagan

 There is a large Chapel ahead. Nico is waiting for me at the large doors, checking his watch. His eyes fall upon me, looking me up and down before nodding his head. When I get close enough, he pulls out a thick ribbon that goes with the dress. He ties it around my head and over my mouth. He offered me his arm which I had no other choice but to take.

A beautiful melody begins to play on the other side of the doors. The doors soon open, revealing a full Church of people. All of which look back to Nico and I. The walk to the altar is so long I can barely make out "my husband" on the other side.

Nico tugs at me and we begin to walk.

The walk is nothing but slow. Everything is so slow. Everyone stares at me and Nico as we walk by. Everytime I get nervous and look down, Nico tugs at my shoulder to look back up. Confidence Reagan.

My shoulders straighten and I mentally repeat positive affirmations to myself as we make our way down. When we get close enough, I can see Alonzo wearing a three piece back suit with shiny shoes. His hair is done back so well and sharp. The jet black satin ribbon is tied around his neck, covering his mouth like mine is.

After too much time, I finally made it to the altar beside Alonzo. He looks at me with a stone cold glare. Nico kisses my cheek, muttering something in Italian before walking away to stand next to Remy— I haven't seen her in so long. She looks thinner and more skittish.

Is that what this marriage will turn into? Orders? Superiority? Askings? An image? Submission to a greater power? A greater power where I am completely and utterly useless? Nothing about this is love. A wedding is supposed to be a cheerful event for a family to celebrate a new generation of success— for both parties.

All the people here are just a witness to the joining of two strangers. In fictional stories when this happens, it's usually for his image. The superior. Nothing about the women. I bet he needs to look stable. Like he has a family. I guess he has one.

A wedding is supposed to be the best day of the girl's life.

I tune out the priest as he preaches his sermon in Italian. I only keep an eye on him so I know when to peel Alonzo's covering down. I feel so many eyes staring at me. My knees almost buckle at the fear it causes. One pair of eyes in particular pulls me towards him.

My eyes lock with a pair of stormy grey ones. He doesn't look angry, or interested. He just looks present. Maybe not mentally, but he is physically here. He is probably dreaming of the woman he'd rather have in a white dress for him. A beautiful woman that wants to serve him. An easy woman for him to control. Control like he does everything else.

Not me though. I'm going to make this marriage as difficult as I can.

After what feels like an eternity passes, the priest nods his head to me with a proud smile. That's my cue. I reach my two newly manicured hands up and gently tug his satin ribbon past his plump lips. I notice a wedding ring has been placed in front of the engagement ring. He lets out a breath that I feel against my knuckles before pulling my hands back to my sides.

It was now Alonzo's turn. His large tan hands pull up next to my face, slipping the lace covering down my cheeks, falling around my neck. The priest says something else before Alonzo places each of his hands around my waist, pulling me into him. His lips fall onto mine in a sweet kiss. I bring my hands up, one on his cheek and the other holding his shoulder.

Just like that I'm married.

As soon as our lips part, a loud bang sounds. Without thinking, I look around in shock at the sudden chaos, clutching onto Alonzo for dear life. I glance up to him to find he is chuckling devilishly.

"Why is this funny to you?!" I mutter under my breath.

I went to release him but he pulled me closer, protecting me. Image. Alonzo pulls out a gun, pushing me behind him, holding an arm out for me to hold onto. Gun fire continues to ring out. The loud nose begins to hurt my ears, giving me a headache.

A part of me isn't even scared. I know that they won't allow me to die, at least not so soon.

Everything jumps into chaos. Remy clutches onto Nico's arm, looking more frightened than anyone. Remy seems nothing like these people. She is so kind and so pure. I've only known her for a short while, but she has done nothing but help and aid me.

A few men approach Alonzo, spitting orders to him in the forign language. I hold his arm tighter. All their guns rise, pointing at the two of us. Before their guns can go off, Alonzo releases fire upon the men, each one dropping to the ground limp. Dead.

I've never thought of death like this before. I've never even seen death in anyone in my family. It's always been just me, my mother and father. For some sick, twisted reason, the deceased people that lay only a few feet away, don't bother me as much as they should.

My eyes move around to see more and more bodies dropping. Until the gun fire seaises and everything goes still and quiet. One body down is behind us. The priest that wedded Alonzo and I gasps for air, struggling to hold onto life.

I pull myself from Alonzo's side and crouch beside the fallen man. The shot hit his abdomen, close to his heart. Close enough that he and I both know that he is going to die. I take his hand, holding it over his chest and begin to pray for him. He begins to pray in his own language, squeezing my hand as he whispers his faith. The man smiles, resting his head back against the ground. The grip he holds on my hand relaxes and he takes a final breath.

"Amen." I whisper, finishing the silent prayer.

I was going to stand up anyway, but Alonzo did it for me. He wrenches me from the ground, putting a hand on my lower back holding me close to him. People must still be watching us. 

Thoughts?