The Seamstress

The Wedding Veil

The woman watches as the bride breaks into tears, slapping a man in a tuxedo and then running away. But the man catches her, holding her arm as he forces the intricate wedding veil off her head, tearing it into pieces.

The bride's cries become shrieks of fury and despair.

The woman grins. Perfect.

"A wedding veil will do just fine..."

*

Three days go by without anything strange further happening. I don't see Sylvester once, and the incidents in the woods aren't mentioned again. Even Aunt Queenie seems friendly, and the task of falling asleep is much easier without constant fear pulsing through my veins. I'm starting to believe that it was all a bad dream, or a result of some crazed hallucination that I had for whatever reason. No need to think about it anymore, I tell myself firmly whenever I think about past events. They weren't real. They didn't happen. They couldn't have happened.

On the 7th morning, Zinnia and I walk into the living room to discover Aunt Queenie knitting feverishly with bright orange yarn. She looks up as we come in and smiles, setting the needles on her lap.

"Eat breakfast quickly," she says. "It's a nice warm day outside. Electra, you may go to the neighbourhood playground."

I stare at her. "By myself?" I ask.

"Of course," Aunt Queenie says, as if the answer is obvious. "Zinnia can stay here and help me knit."

Zinnia raises an eyebrow. "I don't know how to knit," she says.

"Then you can learn."

"But why can't I stay here?" I ask.

"What kind of aunt would I be to make you stay inside with such gorgeous weather?" Aunt Queenie asks.

"But what if I get, I don't know, kidnapped or something?"

Aunt Queenie laughs, a great deep hollow laugh. "As if! No danger will come to you here as long as you are under my protection."

*

Aunt Queenie is right about one thing; the weather is exceptionally beautiful. I let the cool air weave through my fingers as I walk to the playground, following Aunt Queenie's directions. As I get closer I can see a slide, a jungle gym, a couple seesaws, and a swing set with a woman in a white dress.

I love swings, so I go there first. I was hoping that there might be other kids, but it's empty save for the woman. She's rocking herself gently with pointed white shoes that look much too cold for this type of weather.

 As I get closer I can see something is very wrong. She's wearing a wedding dress with a blue stain on the neckline and stockings with several holes in them. The makeup on her face is smeared from tears continuously running down her face, and her hair has been twisted into a series of tight knots with misplaced hairs, as though she had been running for a very long time.

She looks up as I hesitantly sit beside her, sniffing wetly. "I was beginning to think nobody would come," she says miserably.

I clear my throat. "Are... are you okay?" I ask.

The woman whimpers. "Do I look okay? No," she answers her own question. "My fiancé left me on my wedding day!"

"I'm... sorry to hear that," I say.

"And he tore up my veil!" she cries. "The one my mother made so carefully for me! And I spilled blue frosting on my dress!" She lets out a dramatic wail and buries her face in her hands.