Short Stories By Yours Truly.

I Do

She smiled for the people she exchanged words with. And for her pictures of course. Though it didn't really matter. No one would have been able to see the smile she gave anyway. The gas mask that covered her face, as well as anyone who cared enough to live, prevented anyone from seeing her expression. Whether it was good or bad, no one knew except for her. Not that they really cared. It was a wedding. An excuse to go out, drink, and forget about the crumbling world around them for a change. It was an excuse to party. And what better excuse to get away from the same four walls that burned in everyone's mind than a party? She started to tell herself that maybe that's why she wore the gown. Why she found something old and something new. Why she searched for something borrowed and something blue. Or maybe it was her heart? Of which, she couldn't tell, and she feared she never would be able to. And yet, there she stood, making a decision that she wasn't sure she was ready to make.

Was this all a mistake? Her heart started to pound like the beating of a bass drum and the moments crawled by. She was sure everyone had heard it beating. But then again, how could they? And even if they did, why would - should - they care? They weren't the ones vowing to spend the rest of their, probably short, lives with only one person. They just came for the laughs and liquor. And most importantly, the distraction. Not the crushing weight of all the doubtful thoughts that swarmed her consciousness. Regardless, they would have to wait for the booze until they were safe again.

She hoped that having the ceremony outside wouldn't cause as much trouble as she had been told. However, having to wear the gas masks was not something she had planned on, but she had to take what she could get. Maybe that also explained why she was relinquishing her freedom willingly to a man destined to leave her one way or another. The man that stood across from her wasn't a cruel man, but she couldn't say he was kind either. He was tall and fair-skinned with contrasting dark hair and eyes. Many women fell at his feet with nothing more than a look. It often unsettled her when they did so because he never turned them away. But that reality collapsed when he was chosen to be drafted. He claimed he didn't believe in the war he was forced to fight in. Nevertheless, he was gone for some time that she could not remember, but she was almost relieved that she was finally alone. But here they now stood, face-to-face, or rather mask-to-mask, and repeated the words of the minister.

The minister spoke for a long while. His accent was one that she would remember because she had never heard a comparison to the uniqueness of it. But he spoke so long that she felt herself zoning in and out of reality. Until something caught her attention. A flying speck of light in the distance shone out from all the fog that surrounded them like a blanket. It wasn't much, but it was moving and that's why she became so engrossed in watching it. What could it have been? Where could it be going? She wanted to know more about it. But she couldn't, so instead, she watched it follow it's consistent path to its unknown location. The minister, nor her soon to be wedded partner noticed her lack of interest in what was happening before them. Neither she had noticed their lack of interest in what she was diverting her attention to. Nothing else mattered much to them anyway. He was getting married and she saw a trail of fire.

Once she realized what the blazing trail of light actually was and where it was destined to land, she smiled the brightest she had all day. She was no longer afraid of the commitment she was about to make. She had no reason to fear any longer. She had no reason to feel anything but excitement for whatever journey that lay ahead. So when the minister called on her for an answer, she said, "I do." And she knew where the trail of fire would end.