My Tragic Happy Ending

The Wedding Gift

Prolouge

                When we were just kid, we used to believe in fairy tales. It's a usual fantasy of teenage girls; prince charming, knight in shining armor, rose garden, grand palace and most of all, happy ever after.

               They used to say that happy ever after is when the princess got married with the prince she love. Some said that it is when the story end with the prince and his princess together and none of them died in their words, "...and they live happily ever after". And tragedy writers said that it is unfinished story for a story of one's life only ends when one died.

But those are the fairy tales. How about the real life? Is prince charming that unflawed? Is the princess a damsel in distress? Does the knight in shining armor co-exist in the story or he is just an option to the princess? Is the rose garden a fanfare of a happy ending? How grand the palace will be?

But what bothers me is its existence in real life.

                Are they for real?

                Or my question is not the right one to ask?

                How happy ever after exist in real life?

                What is life's version of happy ever after?

Chapter I: Happy Ever After

                It is easier to reach a happy ever after on a fairy tale than in real life. Writers are always in control of their pen, every sway of their pen, including every pause and turn. They can even manipulate every situation that will come and every word that character may say. They are the "gods" of their fairy world. How I envy them!

                But I guess, that fill be find, for now, I shall write mine.

                  My heart is pounding. My pulse is rising. My palms are sweating though cold. My body's numb and I can hear nothing, see nothing and think of nothing but Carol.

                  She's in there, sitting as innocent as she is in the corner of this hall. Like a wall flower in this autumn ball, she blooms in the corner of my mind. She's my star, the sense of my stargazing at this frozen urban night sky. She's my only star in spite of their multitude, in spite of other's radiance, in spite of everything.

                 She's simple. She's plain. She's flawed. She's no extraordinary but she's still everything to me. I need no more reason than what I feel; that I want to be with her always, that I miss her in every second that I can not see her, that I live to see living, that her that I love her more than I love myself.

                Their grandfather's clock is about to strike twelve. I'm wearing white. She's wearing a gown. I'm stepping down the staircase. She's staring out on the balcony. My feet trembles in every step I take in waltz with her favorite classical piece, Canon. Her face glows brighter than our witness, my faithful night companion in it's full, Luna. I'm with my little silver box of every word I can say. She's with her best smile that no word can paint. Everything is perfect.

               One step closer, another second and I'm there. Twelve o' clock shouts its name and just like how Cinderella's fairytale magic broke, someone came and ruined everything that is picture perfect. It's neither the end of spell nor wizardry as the usual tales goes. It's a friend. No. Not a friend. A traitor. The huntsman that is cruel enough to take my heart away, my best friend, Cedrick.