She was beautiful. Like an angel come down to earth to move among the mortals below. A cliché comparison, but, he really couldn't think of a better one to describe her. Of course, he knew plenty of synonyms for 'beautiful'. She was gorgeous, divine, stunning, exquisite, utterly bewitching, but none of those words could not come close to aptly describing how she looked in that moment. Her white dress seemed to glow, causing her pale skin to look a little less alabaster and a little pinker. Her rouged lips were quirked in a shadow that lovely, mischievous smile she was so well known for. Beneath the dress, he knew wouldn't be wearing heels. She never did. "Man-made death traps" she called them. Pearls were woven into her brown hair, gleaming in the lights above, and the veil that hung over her face sparkled like the stars themselves had been strewn across it.
She left him breathless, surrounded by flowers, a bouquet clutched in her hands. The sunlight shown through the window, catching her at just the right angle and casting her in streams of gold. Their gathered family members looked on, tears in the eyes of many. The beautiful bride and the handsome groom before the crowd of loved ones, at the front of the room along with the pastor. The man took out his bible and began to read drawing the audience's attention to himself, but, the groom had eyes only for his bride. He wanted to reach out and caress her face, curl the strand that'd fallen loose from her elegant hairdo around his finger. He loved her hair, so soft and smooth, it slipped through his fingers like satin. But, this wasn't the time. Not yet. His eyes stung as he took in her beauty. The perfection of the woman he loved.
They had done a good job covering up the bruises. The horrible, dark bruises. Of course, her dress hid most of them, but he knew they were there. Of course he knew. He had seen everything. There she had been, across the street, smiling when she saw him waiting outside the coffee shop for her. Their last date before being married on Friday. That weekend, they would leave together on a beautiful honeymoon in a more rural part of the country. Just the two of them, together for a week, without any outside distractions. She had been looking forward to it so much. He was a man of few words, content to smile softly and watch her as she talked animatedly about her plans for the wedding and honeymoon. She had gestured avidly with her hands, her eyes bright, her face flushed with excitement. Now she was so utterly still.
She had glanced both ways before running towards him, down the crosswalk. He'd smiled in return, the barest upturn of his lips. Her joy at seeing him was so contagious, he couldn't help but smile back. The way her expression lit up when she saw him of all people. It made his heart squeeze and flutter in a painfully pleasant way. How she loved him and not anyone else. He'd been about to open his arms to receive her when it happened. A car had skidded around the corner, too fast, running the red-light. His eyes had widened in horrified realization as soon as he saw it. Her name had formed on his lips as he reached out to her. Time slowed down.
He remembered every jarring moment so clearly. How her expression turned to one of fear right before the vehicle impacted her body. How she'd snapped to the side with the brute force of the blow. How the car, carried by momentum despite its squealing breaks, took her to the ground, and trapped her beneath it. Her head had cracked against the pavement.
Then, time returned to normal. The car sped away, the driver in a panic. He had rushed to her side, held her hand as she slowly faded, the EMTs arriving too late to save her before the light left her eyes. Left him alone and took his heart with it. His light, his love, his bride, gone.
As the pastor came to a close, the groom's hand stretched out to touch his bride's cheek through her veil. Her final words to him, "I love you", echoed in his mind, never to be said again. The wedding dress, the one she'd said was the most beautiful dress she'd ever seen, would serve as her burial shroud when he surrendered her to the darkness at last. When they put her in the cold ground to rot. She would forever be trapped in this moment, as the bride waiting for her groom. His tears finally spilled over from stinging eyes as he laid a single white rose among the flowers that surrounded her in the coffin. She was beautiful.
And she was gone.
Greetings all, and welcome! I hope you've enjoyed this first installation in a drabble series that came to me yesterday. It'll be fairly short, probably four to five parts, and very bittersweet. I've never really written tragedy, so, allons~y! This was born when my friend and I were discussing what a depressing character Ulquiorra is and I decided that I'd play around a bit with the Bleach lore and write a bit of a backstory for our poor emo-bat. The reader does see his backstory as a hollow, but we don't see what caused him to become so terribly empty inside. So, I thought: what could make a person feel more empty than knowing love and losing it suddenly?
I hope you'll stick around for the future instalments!