The Wedding.

By Areeba Jibril

Q. In 350 words create an atmosphere of horror, mystery or suspense.

Faint, yellow lights hanging on a string seemed to be the only thing attempting to pierce the darkness enveloping the wedding hall. Drooping, crimson roses were stuck here and there, their crushed petals scattered across the floor. The instrumental version of “my heart will go on,” played faintly in the background.

Guests milled about cheerfully chatting away, as if unaware their every words were to lead to someone else’s misery. The men wore dark suits with bold ties, while their counterparts were dressed in gaudy shalwar kameez, with colors so bright they seemed to be battling against each other as they desperately vied for attention.

The women seemed to be weighted down by gold, their jewelry rather than gravity keeping them from floating away. Their faces were covered in layers of white powder, with red spots on their cheeks. Painfully loud colors were painted on their eye lids, matching those of their clothes.

An accidental look in the mirror of my compact dressing room, only added to my disgust. Tonight I represented everything that I hated. My mother entered the room, indicating with her eyes that I should follow her. I turned away from the white curtains that had allowed me to stay an observer to my inevitable doom.

Taking tentative steps, I tried navigating the plush carpet in my four inch heels. A cry of pain escaped my lips, as I stumbled and fell, the fancy turquoise beadwork of my blood-red wedding dress digging into my skin. My mother grabbed my arms, and carefully tried to pull me up as I stared at an orange stain on the carpet, silently resistant.

I felt a few more hands on my skin, before I could be pulled up to my feet. Even as I was swung through the air, I refused to remove my gaze from the stain. A five star hotel with a suite that had a flaw, an imperfection. I had to be tugged along, as I didn’t want to move forward.

I took a deep, shuddering breath as I reached the entrance of the wedding hall, my groom taking his place next to me. I could feel every eye in the hall on me, as I kept mine fixed on the floor. This was it, I thought, My new beginning. There was no escape now.