People buzzed around me like busy bees, going as Drake commanded. People would come up to ask which I would prefer, and move about their day after I had picked. I had been standing for at least a hour in which Drake apologized once. I was becoming irritated with everything. It was happening! This was real!
I need to find away out of this marriage. I screamed in my mind.
Drake refused to let go of my hand. Every time I went to take my hand back, he would grip it tighter send sharp pains up my arm. my few grew tired and my legs were heavy from standing. I needed to sit down.
"D-Drake," I stammered. "I need to sit down."
"Not yet." He replied, coldly.
Right in this moment he was distant from me. He was being cold as ice. I looked around, the lobby of the asylum was turned into a very decorated wedding area. Chairs were brought in from the cafeteria. A plan struck my mind.
"D-Drake." I stuttered shyly.
He turned to face me.
"Yes?" he asked annoyed.
"Can we get married outside?" I looked down at the floor, acting as cutely as I could manage.
Everyone stopped moving. I could feel their eyes on me glaring. They dared not make a move until he answered me.
"The preparations are almost done." He snapped.
"O-oh okay." I paused to see if the fake sadness I showed would change him mind. "Is not supposed to me my special day?"
I remembered reading a book about how the wedding should go as perfectly as the bride wants it. My idea was to play this out as long as I could. He tensed his body and took in a sharp breath and exhaled the breath after holding it for a second. With a unexpectant action, I was pulled to his chest. he held me for a minute before answering.
"Move everything outside!" He ordered.
He chuckled a lightly, burying his face in my hair. His hot breath some how warmed me. Giving very little comfort. There were a lot of unhappy people moving around and shuffling. I almost felt sad to have to make them work harder. Unfortunately, it was a risk that was needed to be taken. He did not let go of me until a dressmaker came over to take me. She was a short and round woman. Not much to her actually. She had a round face, green eyes and red puffy lips. She kind of reminded me of a jelly donut. She and two other ladies lead me to a room off to the side. They draped black fabric over me.
They worked quickly, cutting and sewing, with such speed it was almost unnatural. She tailored the dress to fit my body perfectly. It hugged my curves, accentuating my features. The lady huffed, sewing on purple lace I wanted. Speaking to one of the seamstress in a language unknown to me. The dark hair woman, with judgmental eyes, looked me over quickly before she excited the room.
"Please help me." I whispered to the round woman.
"No. You do not deserve such a man as wonderful as him. Ungrateful wrench." She replied, coldly, in a heavy accent.
I could not pin point where it was from, but it was really pretty. Even though her words were harsh and cut me to the core. The bitterness behind her words told me she knew him well. She poke me hard with the needle. The black fabric soaking up my blood without showing it. She glowered over my pain as I winced. She poke me a few more times, until she was satisfied. Once I no longer showed my pain she quit poking me with it. She huffed in frustration and continued to work on the dress. The second seamstress did not care to look up from the hem of my dress. As they worked on the dress they would take turns poking me with the needles. I was glad I was not wearing a white dress.
I will not them do this to me. I said to myself angrily.
I clenched my fists. The head seamstress bent down to check the hem. I threw my knee forward, pretending it was giving out on me. It made contact with her head, making her stumbled backwards. The dress was finished and they were just doing touch up work. She glared at me and slapped me hard across my face. Where she hit stung badly, just the force of the hit made me turn my face. She drew her hand back for a second slap. I closed my eyes, readying myself for the impact.
Nothing. Nothing collided with my face. There was not pain. I opened my eyes to Drake holding the woman's wrist. He must have walked right as she slapped me. His eyes we filled with rage and a hint of hate. He narrowed his eyes at her. She sucked in a gulp of hair before opening her mouth. She once again spoke in the foreign language. He knitted his brow letting go of her wrist. He sniffed the air.
"Do not ruin her face before the wedding." He warned her.
He looked over at me. He could smell my blood. he knew exactly what happened. Turning away from me he walked out of the door. It was as though he did not care about the abuse I was given. The woman mumbled under her breath as she slipped the dress of me. I looked down at my body. Blood stained my skin. She tossed my clothes at me, cursing my name.
Does she hate me that much? I wonder to myself. What did I ever do to her? Except defend myself.
I put my clothes on, thankful that it hid the puncture wounds and my blood stained flesh. The way she treated me infuriated me. I glared at her. If looks could kill she would have already been dead.
"Stupid human girl." she mumbled.
"Enough." I hissed through clenched teeth. "What the fuck is your problem."
I balled my hands into fists, digging my nails into the flesh of my palm. I did not care who or what this person was I was not going to take it anymore. she advanced towards me, raising her hand to strike me. I grabbed her wrist before her hand touch me. She looked at me with her shock filled eyes. Before either of us knew anything, my hand connected with her cheek. It was red from the force and anger behind my hit. I walked away from her as her wound began to ooze blood. I was mix with emotions as I was both angry with myself and proud at what I had just did.
As I walked out, a tall woman with black shoulder length black hair, and amber eyes held a silver try showing Drake its contents. He was smiling down at the tray. I could barely see what it was as a advanced closer. The door behind me barged open. I did not bother turning to look since I knew who it was. She was cursing my name and speaking her language. Drake glanced in her direction and frowned. His demeanor growing cold once more. He analyzed the situation. Lifting one hand up, he motioned with his index finger for me to come to him.
"What did you do?" Drake snarled lowly once I was in front of him.
"She hurt me-"I began to say.
"Enough." He snapped.
It was though he did not believe me. Either that or he just did not care. My eyes traveled to the tray the beautiful woman was holding. Three items laid upon it. Firstly was the necklace that use to belong to my mother, it was a blue heart shaped crystal on a silver chain. Her name was carved into the back. A silver bracelet that I did not recognize lay to the right of it. On the other side was a piece of white laced cloth, I reminded me of a hair band. My eyes widened it was the garter. Drake followed my eyes a gave a chuckle.
"She-" I ripped my eyes away from the try and brought them to him.
"I will let it pass since you are my bride." He informed taking my hand in his.
I really had everything right in front of me. Something Old. Something Blue. Something Barrowed. I really hope the garter was new. A shiver ran up my spin. I even had something bloody. My poor dress.
