Author's note: This story just came up. Had to write it down. Hope you all like it. It's just this part.
Dislaimer: Don't own them.
Man and Beast
The man was sitting on a park bench. Overlooking a small white chapel, his head buried in a book. He looked relaxed. A successful young man enjoying some time off with a classic novel.
The man was indeed what he looked like. He was young, 28 years of age and he was successful. Even if that hadn't always been that way.
The man had struggled to get where he was now. After failing (failing her) he was slow to pick up the pieces of his life. But eventually, he did, being sick and tired of being stuck in that little run-down apartment with nothing to look forward to. He had gotten his GED, found a job in a bookstore, which paid for the rent of the room above and his evening classes. Business and literature. He graduated with honors, though there was nobody to share it with (because he had failed her).
He had bought the bookstore, made it profitable within a year and bought another one. And another one. And another one after that. Now, at 28, he owned five stores, all profitable. He wasn't filthy rich (yet), but he was pretty well off. The apartment with the mattress on the floor, the room above his first store…long forgotten. His past behind him (except for her).
The beast was sitting next to him. Within him. It always was, though most of the time he managed to subdue it, forget about it, drown it. It took liquor, meaningless dates with faceless girls…waking up in the morning with a headache. And most of the time, it worked.
Though not every time. It was the beast that gnawed at his conscience when flirting with another (not her , it was the beast playing the director of his dreams (about her), the ever vigilant eye, scanning the newspaper for a name (her name).
And so the beast had struck yet again. The name (her name) was found. A small announcement. Another name added. A date. A location, a time.
The beast had brought him there. Sitting on a park bench. Overlooking a small white chapel. His head no longer buried in the classic novel. For things were about to begin…
As the man fought the beast, he stood up. The man trying to walk away (away from her), the beast urging him forward, toward the chapel. Just in time he hid in a shadowy corner, unnoticed by all the people he used to know…the beast paralyzing him in his seat.
More people milling in, some he knew, more he didn't. Future in-laws (her future)?
Then, there she was. He hadn't gotten any warning, hadn't heard the music starting to play, hadn't paid attention. She was looking beautiful, slowly gliding forward, accompanied by her proud grandfather.
The man winced, the beast howled inside. He kept it down. For now. She swept past him, the white dress making soft swooshy sounds. The beast reaching out, the man holding back. She didn't notice him. The man let go of his breath, relieved. The beast whimpered, disappointed.
She reached the alter, her future (hers, not his) awaiting her. The man could hardly register the singing, the prayers, the words of the priest, spoken to the couple in front. The beast was roaring inside of him. It had been caged within him for too long. He was losing control over it, fast.
Nobody witnessed the inner struggle of the man lurking in the shadows in the back of the chapel. He still hadn't made a sound, the beast in his grip for now. How much longer?
His answer came. His fate sealed, the beast released by the simple words spoken by the priest. It was just a tradition, how could the priest have known?
The meaning of the words reached him. "If anyone here present has any reason for these people not to be married, speak now…"
He wasn't forever holding his peace. The beast wasn't letting him. It had taken over. It pushed him forward, a cry (a howl?) shattering the ceremony, a body dragging itself forward (forward, to her. Always to her).
She turned, her mouth set in a thin line, ready to murder the culprit as soon as it was within reach.
Then their eyes met…
The beast faded, its work done. Leaving just the man. Tired, sad, pleading. The man locked eyes with her. Reached out his hand. After the longest time she nodded. Said something to all other people around. He had forgotten there were other people around.
She put her hand in his.
Man and girl left the little white chapel that day. Together. The beast forgotten.
The end.
Reviews welcome as usual.
