The lost bride
[Anmerkung: Warum eine Geschichte auf Englisch? Hey, warum nicht XD Ich mag Englisch und bin an einer englischen Schule oô Alse, shut your cakehole uû)
~*The lost bride*~
She’s all dressed up in white. The long dress is just slightly touching the ground. Her fair hair is floating down her back like an endless river. The gloves press onto her skin. The silvery necklace she wears cools her too hot skin. The deep red lipstick makes her lips look completely artificial. Her blue eyes are opened wide, as she stares at the altar. And out of these incredibly beautiful blue eyes, small tears are crawling silently. Slowly the salty water runs down her cheeks. The hand holding the flowers she forces into a strong fist. Her tiny little heart seems to be bumping so fast, it has to explode every second. Her pure and serene soul is torn apart into a thousand pieces, locked up in the church, desperately trying to find a way out. But there’s none. For nearly half a year the young girl had been able to experience love. She considers that time as the luckiest she ever had, and also as the luckiest she will ever have had. But right now, she only wants to erase all of those lovely memories. Because they give her nothing but horrible pain. Her parents force her to marry another man. One she never met. One she can impossibly love. Never. All the eyes of his and her family seem to be staring at her. Of course. Because she’s the bride. In a few seconds she will walk to the altar, accompanied by her proud, greedy father. It will be her last walk as a human being. Her last walk as a young girl able to love. As soon as she reaches the altar, she will be an object. A slave to the world’s dark compassion. She wants to scream. She wants to cry out loud. She wants to rip her heart right out of her breast. But she keeps quiet. Because she’s the lost bride.
