Runaway Bride

Here we go again. My head started to throb at the temples and I felt like all my insides were churning. This was probably the nerves. Then came the painful ache in my throat and my eyes began to sting; I felt myself slowly going red. This was me wanting to cry.

'You look fine.'

I brought myself back to my surroundings. My reflection was staring right back at me. I was standing completely still in my wonderful white wedding dress. It was wonderful because it was the exact dress I had dreamed of as a little girl. Strapless and fitted perfectly at the top and then hung from the waist down. Everything was just right apart from the expression on my face. My forehead was creased and my eyebrows furrowed. I always imagined I would be happy on my wedding day, happy from the bottom of my heart. But when I looked into my eyes all I could see was intense agony...

'Trust me', said the voice again. I looked into the mirror and saw that it was Sarah. Of course my best friend would here on this very special day.

'I know you're a bit nervous and you're probably wondering why you feel that way' - Ha. Nothing got past Sarah. 'It's completely normal. Just remember that out there is a man that loves you. OK?'

I felt like someone just tied a rope around my stomach. I knew more than anyone else how much my husband-to-be loved me. This is what made running away so difficult.

There was a gentle rap at the door. My father strolled in, and as he did so Sarah walked out with her gaze towards the floor, avoiding his eyes. My father was an intimidating man with penetrating black eyes that seemed to look through your soul. Deep inside he was caring person. Very deep. Many who knew him were scared of his air of superiority. As was I.

'Are you still crying?! I can't believe this. At least smile like you're happy.' He shouted as though this was all my fault.

'I'm not pretending to be something I'm not. I'm not happy and you know -'

'I couldn't care less. There was no way I was going to let you marry that poverty stricken tramp you met on the streets!'

'He is not a tramp.' I gasped. 'He is the man I love now and I always will-'

'