HE IS HELL

Chapter twenty-eight

Chapter twenty-eight

It was here. My wedding day finally arrived and everything was turning to utter hell. 7 am and I was sitting at the makeup specialists house, watching as she lathered my eyelids with bright purple shadow and sprayed an absurd amount of hairspray at the curling iron stuck between my hair.

I know I'm going to run home and undo all of her work. But, as I watched her concentrated face I couldn't bring myself to tell her to put down that pallet of eyeshadow and back away.

The woman, whose name was Elana, nodded with a satisfied smirk - oh no. I regret every decision I have ever made.

"All done!" Her Scottish accent was thick as her partner, Nile, walked in the room seemingly holding in laughter. "You look great Kat, really great." Liar.

I stood to look into the oversized silver mirror that hung above the fireplace, shock hitting me like a brick as I saw my reflection.

I look like a moose.

The curls hung from the left side of my face, almost the same size as my hand as my eyesight trailed to the blotched foundation and thickly coated mascara. Purple, in three different block shades, reached the underside of my eyebrows while the thick purple lip liner created a crescent moon shape upon my top lip.

"So, you like it?" Elana asked, smiling proudly. I can't tell her. She looks too happy.

"I love it! Thank you so much, I really have to go. I didn't realize it's already quarter to 8! I have to be there at 9 o'clock!" I laughed, grabbing my belongings and running down the stairs and out the front door. My tears already ruined the overly-orange foundation as I quickly wiped them away. Although nothing else seemed to be on my side, the weather was warm as I ran home, hardly any clouds dusted the blue sky.

By the time I arrived home, it seemed everything had gotten worse. My veil was missing, I had given my Porsche ride to my sister and I had yet to wash the hairspray from this rats-nest. It was already past 8 am. Using the little time I had, I quickly rushed to the bathroom to wash my hair while multitasking with the makeup wipes. The amount on my face, however, would take a couple days of washing to get rid off. Knowing deep down I wasn't going to make it on time, also not having a ride, I slumped against the bathtub. I hate weddings. I thought as I picked up my mobile, calling a family friend for help. Thankfully, their van was free to use as they agreed to take me to my wedding. Although it was not ideal, it would do.

Regaining the last bit of strength I had, I towel dried my hair and applied some eyeliner as the front door opened. "Kat, you're not even in your dress. It's 9 o'clock, we need to go." Lucille spoke as she stood in her pajamas. I nodded in response. "I know, I just haven't had time. I'll get dressed in the van."

Within the next 20 minutes, I had received many calls from family and the registry office, demanding for updates on my location as I squeezed myself into my lace dress, wearing the most unflattering pale pink thong I have ever owned. Stressed was becoming an understatement as I internally thought about doing this, whether or not I wanted to get married at such a young age. Lucille pulled the corset tight, pulling me away from my doubting thoughts.

Regardless, I was going ahead with it.

Going ahead with being Mrs Moore.

Finally arriving, I could see my uncle from the window of the two story brick house, his mobile pointing at me in an attempt to capture my glorious entrance. I smiled looking at Lucille as I stood beside the white van.

"I'll come by a little later, I'll just go back and get dressed." I watched as Lucille spoke, cigarette in hand. I was grateful for the ride, I just wasn't sure of having her come to the wedding. She did you a favor, just nod. "That'll be great, thanks so much for this Lucille, I appreciate it."

It wasn't that I didn't like her, Lucille was, after-all, my best friend from secondary school. It was just, in a mean, simple way: she was fake. I guess I am kind of fake as well.

I waved her goodbye as I walked swiftly to the front door, greeted by the judge. "Mrs Moore, I presume?" She asked with a thick southern accent, straightened brown hair hung sharply above her shoulders accentuating the thick rimmed glasses upon her small nose. "I'm Judge Renee. I'll be marrying you and Mr. Moore today. Please follow me."

Doing as I was told, I followed Judge Renee inside, the entrance was smaller than expected as we reached the staircase. Deep auburn rails coated the white posts on each side of the stairs with thick velvet carpeted flooring.

I was so terrified and excited at the same time. My heart thumped loudly against my chest and my hands became clammed within minutes. I was about to get married. Me. The girl who couldn't even look a stranger in their eyes, is now getting married.

"Are you ready to get married?"

I swallowed. Was I ready to get married?

Do I even want to get married?

Is Matthew really the one for me? If so..

"Yes."

Why am I hoping for Tristan to be the one behind that door?