Ashley
On the day of her wedding, Ashley woke up screaming.
She'd dreamed of sawblades. So many sawblades. Sawblades slicing through a wedding cake, white crumbs flying everywhere like droplets of blood. Sawblades tearing viciously through pure white veils and satin and fraying fabric. Sawblades hitting flesh, screams flying around her mind like trapped gas atoms.
And when she stood up to look in a shattered mirror, there were a million broken and battered Ashleys. Knotted red hair, skin crisscrossed with gashes deep enough to show stark white bone, a tangle of mauled white fabric barely clinging onto her body that used to be her wedding dress.
She thought the screams in her head were her own, but as seconds ticked by and she listened harder, she realized the screams weren't human. Wendigo screeches.
A long pair of arms appeared from behind her, reaching forward and yanking her backward into its monstrous jaws. She was flimsier than a piece of newsprint, ready to be maimed again, fresh scars, new unwanted tattoos buzzed on with scarlet ink. Truthfully, she wasn't ready— but she had no choice.
The interesting thing was, Ashley never saw Chris in her nightmares. Even though they'd spent the better part of the night together just the two of them, she never saw his face. Maybe, once or twice, she'd feel his presence in the dream, hear the harsh bang of the gun as he shot at the sawblades, at the psycho, at himself. But his pained face, twisted in agony and raw fear, was always wrongly absent.
Ashley told her therapist about it, and after a while she told Chris too. The only explanation she was given that satiated her curiosity was one she'd formed in her own mind.
He didn't belong in that nightmarish world. Chris was a dream, alright, but he was a good dream, like those innocent day dreams that made her fall into a contented stupor during a professor's lecture. Sure, he'd been there in that hell with her in real life. But she couldn't, she wouldn't, associate that handsome face with rotting pigs, congealed pools of blood, and rusty pairs of scissors. There was no way she would.
So, usually when she woke up from these nightmares, Chris was right there to comfort her. She did the same exact thing whenever he suffered through one. It was hellish when they were apart those couple of years, both on the same coast yet still so far away from each other. To comfort herself, Ashley would slip a picture of Chris under her pillow, and clutch an old beanie baby of his that he'd passed on to her at some point. Sometimes it worked, and other times she was an insomniac for weeks at a time. She'd walked into Powell's way too many times barely functioning. In those days, she guzzled gallons of coffee at a time, or even a few shots of 5-hour energy when she was desperate. Sleep was her enemy.
This morning, Chris was not there to comfort her. Ashley startled awake, skin slick with sweat as if she'd just climbed out of a swimming pool. "Chris?" she cried, clutching at the fabric of her old t-shirt. "C- Chris, Chris-Chris-Chris-Chr—"
Cheerful brown eyes swam in her teary vision. "The groom and bride can't see each other before the wedding, silly!" It took several wet blinks for Hannah's smiling face to become recognizable.
Ashley drew out a slow breath, mopping up the sweat on her arms with her sheets. It was then she realized she was not upstairs in her and Chris's bed, but on the couch downstairs in the living room.
She sat up more, watching as Hannah skipped off down the hall to the kitchen. Ashley continued taking deep breaths and holding her aching head. After a few moments of recovery, she looked around the room as memories from last night came to her in brief flashes.
She and Chris were separated yesterday evening, maybe as early as four, for their respective bachelor and bachelorette parties. Ashley had no clue where the guys had taken him, but the place she'd been dragged to had definitely been… interesting.
Sam and Hannah had wanted something more low-key, but the others complained that would be too similar to the get-together a few nights ago. After some back and forth arguing, the girls settled on going to a casual bar and grille that had live music. Everyone— except Jess, of course— got a little tipsy on sickeningly sweet margaritas. After the live band's show ended, the restaurant offered karaoke, and of course Jessica was the first one to step up. She sang a few vintage Taylor Swift songs and wasn't half bad, and almost all of the guys at the bar hit on her. Her responses varied, but Ashley's favorite was when Jess raised her middle finger, which had a ring on it, at the dude and said "Sorry, I'm taken." If he began to protest "but that's not your ring finger," she'd just move her hand closer to his face and pat her baby bump. "Do I look single to you?"
The real "fun" began when Jess insisted the entire group come up on the makeshift stage. Ashley felt like a tribute for the Hunger Games as she was led up to a microphone. There were only three microphones, but somehow they made do. Ashley had felt even more embarrassed wearing the ridiculously glittery tiara Hannah and Jess had found for her from god knows where.
They, in Beth's words, "tore the place up" with their terrible singing. Yet, somehow, their audience always wanted an encore. Sam, who actually had some talent, lasted the longest out of the six. It was quite easy to convince drunk Sam to sing a few twangy country solos.
Sober Jess drove them all back to Chris and Ashley's house, and they spent the rest of the night and early morning hours having a typical girly sleepover in the living room. They watched Ashley's favorite Disney cartoon (Beauty & the Beast, duh), opened a few presents (enough lacy nighties and thongs to give Chris a heart attack), then stayed up late playing "Truth or Dare" and "Fuck, Marry, Kill." Ashley could still clearly remember staring up at the dark ceiling from her place on the couch, trying to choose between three hot male celebs for FMK, and then the next instant she was launched into that sawblade terror.
They hadn't had a sleepover like that in ages, Ashley realized as she stared at the aftermath of that night. She and Jess were the only ones who got a sofa to sleep on, while the others were on a mixture of pillows and air mattresses on the floor. Jessica was still out on the smaller sofa, her pretty face slackened and peaceful from sleep. Emily and Beth were lying somewhat close on the partially deflated air mattress. Beth was snoring softly, only to be interrupted by a sharp kick in the shin from Emily's foot. Somehow all three of them had slept right through Ashley's screams. Or they'd ignored them.
Ashley finally stood up from the couch, taking a moment to stretch before shuffling down the hallway to the kitchen.
Hannah and Sam had totally taken over the room. The buttery scent of pancakes combined with the mouthwatering odor of coffee. Ashley could practically see the lovely smells wafting around her like tendrils of smoke, golden and delicious.
Sam spun around from where she was busy at the stove, and flashed the redhead a sheepish grin. "Ash… I hope you don't mind," she said, gesturing to a blob of pancake batter currently bubbling on a skillet. "We kinda invaded your kitchen…"
Hannah stepped in from the patio and slid the glass door shut behind her. "Storm's outside," she muttered, but then brightened when she noticed Ashley was there. "Oh, hey, Ash! Good morning."
Ashley chuckled, momentarily taking off her glasses to wipe off a smudge on the lenses with the corner of her shirt. "Morning. Don't worry about it, Sam. I told you guys to make yourselves at home, and that's exactly what you're doing! No harm in that."
She moved closer to the counter, but the only evidence of Sam's pancake preparation there was a half-empty bowl of batter. All the other dishes and the box mix were already cleaned or put away. Ashley shook her head slowly, stunned. I don't know how she does it…
"I was hoping the others would wake up from the pancakes smell too, but I don't think it's working," Sam explained as she slid her spatula under the now mostly solidified blob. In one swift motion, she flipped the pancake over and it landed with a splat and a hiss from the skillet. The blonde then grinned at Ashley. "You don't have chocolate chips stored away anywhere, do you?"
"I'm afraid not," Ashley said. "Though we do have some, like, two-week-old blueberries." She shuddered. "Though I think eating those might give us the risk of contracting toxic mold poisoning."
Hannah rolled her eyes, lifting a mug of steaming coffee to her lips. "Sounds delightful."
Luckily, the buttery scent must've drifted down the hallway eventually, as one by one the other three trickled into the room. Beth looked grouchy as ever, and was eyeing Emily while limping on one foot. Her other leg was being cradled in her hand.
Jess had a major case of bedhead, but she flattened down the wild golden strands indifferently as she sat in front of one of the plates of pancakes. She rubbed her throat and groaned. "Guys, next time I want to sing 'Our Song' by Taylor Swift three times in a row, please convince me not to."
"I feel your pain," Sam sighed. "No more Blake Shelton solos for me." She placed the final stack of pancakes in front of Beth before sitting down herself. Ashley marveled at how fast she'd managed to prepare breakfast for everyone. She was like a freaking pancake factory. Hannah was the coffee factory (with the help of a very efficient Keurig machine.) All Ashley had done was slice up some fruit.
The girls munched their way through breakfast, only pausing in their chewing to swallow gulps of coffee. As Ashley picked the final chunk of pineapple out of the dish, Beth sat back with a content sigh. "Damn, guys. This was the best breakfast ever, thanks!" Emily and Jess were quick to contribute their own thank yous.
A short while later, Ashley was hanging out in the front foyer, waiting for the others to finish getting dressed. She wasn't in her wedding gown yet, of course— they were going to put their formal wear on at the actual venue. In the meantime, she'd quickly thrown in her contacts, an average t-shirt, and leggings. At this point, it was too hot outside for beanies, and Ashley couldn't help but feel self-conscious as she brushed a few strands of red hair away from her face.
Her mind still clung to that dream. Dammit, why did that have to plague her brain on today of all days? The sawblades stuck around in her mind like sticky cobwebs— even if swatted away, they still stuck to some part of you.
Ashley wasn't surprised to see Sam as the next person ready. She breezed down the front hallway, a bag slung over one shoulder. For some reason, she'd opted to keep her hair down today, probably in preparation for whatever extravagant things would be done to it later.
"Ash," the blonde grinned crookedly. Sam's eyes were a darker green than hers, yet still for a moment Ashley felt as if her anxious stare was being reflected perfectly. How can Sam possibly be anxious? She's not the one walking down the aisle!
"Sam," Ashley replied when she realized she hadn't yet.
Green flecked eyes drilled into her, dissecting Ashley like a frog in biology class. She shuddered at the gory thought— dissection day in junior year had also happened to be one of Ashley's rare "sick" days.
"Hey." Sam moved closer, taking Ashley's hand and squeezing it. "This is a big day for you. A happy day. Don't let your nerves get the better of you," she comforted.
Ashley's front teeth dug into her bottom lip almost to the point of drawing blood. Blood was something she'd rather not see at the moment, however, so she stopped biting. "I- I just don't— oh, god, Sam… I had another nightmare last night."
She loved Sam. She really did. But in those few precious minutes, where it was just the two of them without loudmouths Jess and Beth, and giggly Hannah, and those eye rolls from Emily that spoke volumes— all Ashley wanted was for those similar green eyes to shift into the pale ice blue that belonged to Chris. How could she bear not seeing him again for several hours still? And the next time she did see him, it would be in front of so many people. As if they were standing on a stage, two characters in a rom-drama, the audience waiting with bated breath for her to crumple to her knees and sob into his jacket.
She wanted Chris all to herself. And yet, despite it being their wedding day, the two wouldn't be completely and utterly alone until way too many hours from now.
So, Ashley sighed. You're being ungrateful, a voice sang in her head. And she caved. And she accepted Sam's embrace, at least for the time being.
"Shh, shh," Sam soothed. Her voice was a lightweight, innocent whisper that relaxed Ashley's tensed muscles. Well, for the time being at least. "I know, Ash, I know… sometimes I can't get that night out of my mind either. But you know what?" Sam leaned back, giving Ashley's trembling hands another squeeze and maintaining firm eye contact. "It's your wedding day, god damn it. Today is the day you're marrying Chris. And no stupid monsters can get in the way of your love. Okay?" When Ashley didn't answer right away, Sam straightened so they were more eye level. "Okay?"
Ashley smirked, sighing yet again, but this time in resignation. How did Sam always know the right thing to say? She accepted another gentle hug from the shorter girl before finally breaking apart. "Thank you, Sam. You always know just what to say," she said, repeating her thoughts out loud.
Sam stuck out her tongue and groaned. "Really? That was so cheesy, I can almost taste the saltiness in my mouth!"
Ashley gave her a gentle shove. "Not any cheesier than something Josh would say."
Just like that, the amused expression on Sam's face was gone. She looked as if Ashley had just slapped her in the face, and an appropriate blush was appearing on her cheeks. All this, just from the mention of Josh? Ashley swallowed her fears, and replaced them with undying curiosity.
"Hey, Sam… I never told you, but Chris and I saw you and—"
Ashley was cut off by the always-grand entrance of Jess, and her three-person entourage behind her. "Ready, ladies?" Jess beamed.
Sam's smile was so fake, Ashley expected her to take off a plaster mask— but she didn't. "Yeah, I'm ready," the redhead said, allowing herself to be pulled out the door by her bridesmaids.
The venue still looked amazing. As Ashley drove the car up the hill, she felt like it was the first time she was ever seeing it. And, for the others, it was their first time— and Ashley felt like she was experiencing it right along with them.
The excited chatter in the car shifted into thrilled gasps and squeals. "It's such a beautiful place, Ash," Emily said.
"I know," Ashley put on a lopsided grin, staring just as mesmerized out the windshield. "It is."
Time began passing at the speed of light, which bewildered Ashley. She'd always thought time passed by slowly on fun days like this. Today, however, that was not the case.
And so, as the hands on the wall clock inched closer and closer to the four, Ashley's heart rate skyrocketed. She kept wiping the palms of her hands, but seconds later the tiny beads of sweat would be back.
There was ten minutes left until she would walk down the aisle. Richard Brown was lingering in the hall, waiting patiently to lead his daughter to her future husband. And Ashley knew Chris was already up front, standing at the altar, probably trying to wring his hands free of sweat just like she was. Incoherent thoughts muddied up her mind, like fingerprints on a windowpane. What if both of our hands are so sweaty that they're slippery and if they're slippery then we can't hold hands because they'll keep slipping and—
"Ash." Ashley jumped about a foot in the air as Beth's hand landed on her shoulder. They were both gazing into the floor length mirror, though Ashley hadn't noticed the brunette until now.
Beth looked stunning in her dress. Her hair, which she'd grown out somewhat in the past six years, looked silky smooth and ended in a bouncy curve just past her shoulders. Her bangs were swept to the side, handing over more attention to her eyes, which were coated with eyeliner and mascara.
Ashley gulped. That response was enough for Beth, and the other woman just grinned and give her a one-armed side hug. "You'll do great. You and Chris were born for each other— everything's gonna be fine. And remember, lots of alcohol at the reception!" With a corny wink, Beth slipped away to chat with the others.
Ashley's grin faltered, and for a moment she got lost in her reflection. Jess and Emily had done something amazing with her hair— whatever it was called exactly, she had no idea, but hell… it was amazing. Most of her hair was pulled up, save for a few auburn corkscrews that framed her face. Hannah had taken care of her face, and she'd done really well too. Mascara, eyeshadow, watermelon pink lips. As much foundation as Hannah had piled on, it still wasn't enough to hide the natural blush.
And then her dress— oh, god, the dress. Ashley's heart still skipped a beat every time she thought of how Chris had researched that dress shop in Seattle and bought this gown for her. She wouldn't want to be marrying anybody else today.
Then, at last, it was time.
Beth and Chris's younger brother Mason were the first down the aisle. There were no flower girls to toss petals, though whoever in the group married next would probably be lucky enough to have Jess and Mike's daughter as their flower girl. That is, if she was old enough to walk at that point.
Then Emily and Matt went, both looking super attractive. Emily had a hairstyle similar to Ashley's, and it looked fabulous on her.
Jess and Mike, the dynamic duo. She definitely was glowing, no matter how much she denied it, she really was. Her hair was woven into a braid that trailed down one shoulder. She looked like Elsa from Frozen, and for a moment Ashley actually appreciated that movie rather than hated it.
Hannah and Chris's newer friend Lucas. He was a handsome guy, and Hannah was quite obviously drooling over him. Her hair was down, tumbling past her shoulders in thick, dark waves.
Finally, Sam and Josh. Ashley, of course, knew there was something up between the two, and yet they looked so natural as they walked with their arms linked. She was beautiful as always, with more makeup than usual and her blonde hair in a much more sophisticated bun. As tight as it was, though, Ashley could see a few wily strands coming loose. Josh was very dapper in his black tux, and any anxiety he might've had was well concealed under a mask of confidence.
The music droned on, but it adopted a more excited tune. Ashley met her father at the open double doors, and she knew in her heart that on a day like this, it was easy to forgive him. Yes, she wished her mother was here. Of course she did. But no matter how much she begged and pleaded, her mom could only ever be here in spirit.
And she was okay with that.
"Here," her father murmured. From his pocket, he pulled out a faux ivory hair clip that looked antique. "It was your mother's. I thought it'd be appropriate for you to wear this today, just like she did at our wedding."
Ashley inclined her head slightly, heart pounding in her throat as he fastened the clip among a few red locks. When she straightened again, the tears in his eyes were barely being held back. Ashley could feel her own tears coming on too. "Thank you," she whispered.
"Love you, baby girl." He kissed her head, linked his arm in hers, and together father and daughter began the short yet endless trek down the aisle, all eyes on them.
I'm sorry if this is full of typos, but I'm in a rush right now because I'm about to leave for somewhere. I will reply to all PMs tomorrow! Thank you all so much for reading, I love ya'll, and see you next time!