Hollow Vows

The Wedding

Dripping, trembling, my breath rattling in my throat, I stand at the great doors of the chapel. The rich scent of candle wax and flowers curls in the air, a cruel contrast to the murky stench of river water clinging to me. My gown, once immaculate, hung in sodden tatters around me, heavy with the weight of my final moments. My bare feet stung against the stone floor, my skin raw where the river had taken its toll. And yet, no one turns to look at me.

Their eyes are fixed elsewhere.

What could be more shocking than the drowned bride at the entrance? What could hold their gaze so intently that they do not see the wreckage of me standing before them? I force my stiff, aching body forward, following the path of their attention, my breath shallow, my limbs heavy with water and ruin. Down the aisle where I should have walked, stands my father unharmed with a sad smile, tears began leaking down my face as relief for his wellbeing shuttles through my body, my eyes follow his line of site and i see Sir Shubael Coffin – my betrothed and....

No-no, this couldn’t be. It was impossible. I stared, my breath faltering, as my eyes locked onto the woman standing where I should have been -wearing my dress, standing in my place. A sickening wave of recognition clawed up my throat, my pulse hammering as I took in every horrifying detail. The delicate lace of the gown, the familiar curve of her shoulders, the trembling hands clasped before her.

And then, with a shuddering, gut-wrenching certainty, I knew.

It was me.

I am the one standing at the altar. But how? How?! The world tilts, my mind fracturing under the weight of it. This isn’t just a trick of the light or a cruel illusion. I can feel it-an unbearable, crushing truth pressing down on my chest.

I am outside myself, watching my own fate unfold, trapped and helpless as the vows I have never spoken are about to be sealed.I could see my lips curve into the very smile I had practised for weeks, the perfect, docile expression I had shaped in the mirror since the announcement of our engagement. But that is not me, for I am here. I am here, broken and cold, watching the very moment i had been dreading and that i am unable to stop.I stumble forward, my wounded body betraying me, my desperate steps uneven, each one an agony. My knees buckle as a fasten my pace but I catch myself, gripping the edges of the pews for balance. My fingers leaving wet prints against the polished wood, but no one notices. No one sees the water dripping from my ruined gown. No one sees my silent, breathless desperation.

Upon the altar, my other self extends a terrified hand. And I am forced to watch as Shubael takes it with ease. But I can see his lips curve into a sinsiter smile and i can see the glint of gold as he slides the ring onto my other self’s finger. Forever binding me to him. I run now as fast as my sodden gown will allow tears spilling uncontrollably down my cheeks, hot and unrelenting, as I plead-beg-for this to stop, for time to unravel, for the world to give me back the life that has been stolen from me. My voice cracks, raw and broken, but no one turns. No one flinches. No one even sees me. A hollow, suffocating agony claws at my chest as the screams I have swallowed for so long finally tear free. The sound is wretched, inhuman-a soul splitting apart at the seams. My throat burns as each sob ripped through me as if it were shattered glass, but the ceremony continues, untouched by my suffering. I was like a ghost screaming into the void.

I watch, helplessly I watch as I-she- stand there-serene, obedient, lifeless. My own face gazes forward, blank and accepting, lips parting to speak the words that will bind me forever.