White Lace and Wedding Bells
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"There is no greater sorrow
Than to be mindful of the happy time
In misery"
- Dante Alighieri (The Divine Comedy)
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Sarah Jacobs strolled down the street on a lazy New York summer day. The hem of her skirt was filthy and her hair was damp, but for once, she didn't care. Tomorrow was the day that Jack returned from Santa Fe, and the day they were going to get married. Today was the day her father had given her the money to buy her dress. Both these things kept her going, despite the heat. Finally, she came to the dress shop. The beautiful dress displays in the window made her heart soar with girlish excitement.
"Hello dear, can I help you?" asked a woman Sarah assumed to be the owner.
"Oh yes, thank you," she replied, relieved that she didn't have to take on the overwhelming task of picking a dress on her own. The woman smiled knowingly and led her over to a rack of charming white and cream dresses. She took a deep breath before launching into an explanation of the pros and cons of each dress.
"Well, dear, this lace one here is a lovely number, but lace can be unflattering on certain girls…oh, and this one, this one seems plain, but wait until you try it on…" Sarah sighed, realizing that this was going to be a long afternoon.
Sarah left the shop a few hours later, exhausted but pleased that she had found a dress. She was a little disappointed that she had to pay extra to have it tailored and leave it in the shop overnight, which gave her less time to get ready the next morning, but that was a small price to pay for the joy she would experience tomorrow. She fanned herself briefly as she started home. The sun was high in the sky and beating down almost unbearably. By the time she had made it halfway home, her dress was visibly stained around the collar, and her face glistened in an entirely unflattering way. Normally she would be embarrassed by her appearance, but at that moment she happened to be passing the church and simply assured herself that tomorrow she would be standing in that very same spot, the vision of beauty on her wedding day, and that would make up for it. She lost herself, for a moment, daydreaming of that day. Her daydream was so strong she began to hear wedding bells ringing in her ears. After a moment she realized that she wasn't imagining them at all. The wedding bells above the chapel were ringing. She squealed with excitement. She was about to witness a real wedding, which was certainly better than a silly daydream.
The chapel's white doors parted as a bride and groom strode out, followed by many a merry guest tossing rice over the happy couple's heads and waving goodbye. They ran down the steps to the carriage that waited out front. The groom lifted his bride off the ground and into the carriage before stepping in himself. At that moment that the groom turned to enter the carriage, Sarah caught a glimpse of his face, and her whole world fell apart. She would know that face anywhere. It was Jack. No, it was impossible. Her head screamed as her heart broke apart into tiny pieces. He was supposed to be arriving tomorrow, walking down those steps tomorrow, with her. Her eyes met his, beginning, pleading for him to come over and say it was all a joke, but he didn't. He gave her one sorry look that she couldn't interpret, and then hopped into the carriage with his bride, all smiles.
Sarah never picked up her dress the next day, and she never wore a white dress again. She stopped attending church; she would shriek like the devil were he being read scripture whenever anyone tried to make her enter that cursed chapel. When she heard wedding bells, she'd clamp her hands over her ears and wail a desperate gut wrenching wail. No one understood that Sarah had died that day, not physically, but the very essence of her had vanished into thin air. She became a hollow body with no soul that went through the motions feeling nothing. Eventually, she was committed to a mental institution where she underwent many torturous procedures in attempt to cure her up until her death, which wasn't really a true death, but merely the point were her body caught up to her already departed spirit.