Something Old…
I looked over at my mother, sat in the corner of the dressing room and staring at me with tears in her eyes. She was, certainly, older than anything else in here. Heavy bags rounded her once lively brown eyes, now devoid of any depth, and wrinkles that could once have been described as laugh lines were transformed into lines of sorrow, each one another scar on her beautiful face. Still, she was 'something old'. So that was one thing crossed off my list of 'wedding things'…
Something New…
I looked down at my bloated stomach, covered with the clingy material of a wedding dress, and had to honestly say- forcedly, I must admit- that there was something new in this room, too. It disgusted me to see it, but the… thing inside me had swelled to a seemingly impossible size. I hated it. And I knew that one day, it would hate me too…
Something Borrowed…
The white dress I wore, which jetted over my growing stomach, used to be my mothers. She wore it when she was marrying my father, whilst pregnant with me. I hated it, but she'd forced it on me and there was no going back now. I wasn't even sure if I could get the bloody thing off…
Something Blue…
I thought of the blue bruises underneath my dress and instinctively shrank smaller. My new husband-to-be wasn't a… well, he was a fighter, not a lover…
I stared into the mirror that adorned my bathroom wall, and I saw everything I'd vowed I would never have wanted to be. I didn't see Isabella Swan, eighteen, full of vitality- I saw Bella, forty, about to get married to a man who didn't love me.
I saw, in that mirror, my mother…