Ten
1269 Words
My entire body shook from the rage boiling inside of me.
My hands trembled so badly at my sides that I had to curl them into fists just to steady myself as I looked at Morgana and then at Patricia and for the first time since this nightmare began, I felt pure hatred curl up my veins.
“You’re going to pay for this,” I whispered.
They both looked amused like I was obviously bluffing and that only made my anger worse.
“You hear me?” My voice cracked louder this time. “Every single one of you is going to pay for what you did to my mother.”
Morgana laughed softly. “Oh, the poor bride is angry.”
“I mean it,” I snapped.
My breathing turned ragged as tears continued pouring down my face.
“You mocked her even after her death,” I choked out. “You treated her like she was garbage—”
“Because she was,” Patricia interrupted coldly.
I shook my head in denial.
My jaw trembled violently as I stepped backward slowly.
“I hate all of you,” I whispered.
Then I turned and ran.
I heard Morgana call something behind me that I didn't hear.
I just ran.
The church doors slammed open loudly as I rushed outside into the bright daylight.
My wedding heels scraped painfully against the pavement as I stumbled down the church steps.
“Mrs. Cage!” A man’s voice called after me.
But I ignored it.
“Mrs. Cage, wait!”
The driver.
I instantly realized it was Dawson’s driver, the very one he said would bring me to him.
The black luxury car sat waiting nearby. I saw him stepping toward me quickly.
“The boss instructed me to take you home.”
Home?
The word almost made me laugh hysterically.
That place wasn’t home but a prison.
“I’m not going anywhere with you!” I shouted.
He looked startled by my sudden outburst.
“Ma’am—”
“Leave me the f**k alone!”
Then I ran again.
The heavy wedding dress made it difficult but I didn’t stop. I gathered the fabric desperately in my hands and kept running.
Some people stared as I ran past them.
A crying bride running through the streets alone wasn’t exactly normal but I couldn’t care anymore.
I needed to get to my mother.
Even if all that remained of her was a grave.
Tears blurred my vision as I pushed through crowded sidewalks.
My breathing came out uneven and broken.
Cars honked somewhere nearby as people moved around me.
But everything felt distant and muffled like I was moving through a nightmare.
“She looks insane…”
“Wasn’t she just married?”
“Oh my God…”
“Poor thing…”
The whispers followed me everywhere. Some people stared with pity while others did with curiosity.
Some even dared to openly judge me.
An elderly woman near a storefront shook her head sadly as I passed.
“That bride looks distressed…”
“She must’ve been abandoned,” someone else whispered nearby.
“No,” another voice muttered. “Look at her dress, it's definitely a rich family problem.”
Oh, they had no idea!
My chest twisted painfully again as another sob escaped me but I kept running anyway.
My feet hurt terribly and the heels kept catching against cracks in the pavement.
At some point, one of them snapped slightly at the strap and I nearly fell but I caught myself against a wall and kept moving.
My makeup was ruined completely because I could feel mascara smeared beneath my eyes.
My hair had started falling apart from the carefully styled arrangement Dune made earlier.
Now.. I looked exactly how I felt—broken and bitter.
People moved out of my way as I passed.
A little girl standing beside her mother pointed directly at me.
“Mommy, why is the bride crying?”
Her mother pulled her closer quickly. “Don’t stare.”
But I heard it anyway and somehow it all made me feel worse because even strangers could see how ruined I was.
My breathing became harsher as exhaustion started catching up with me.
I hadn’t eaten properly in days, my body felt weak but the thought of my mother kept pushing me forward.
I clutched the front of my dress tighter as tears continued streaming endlessly down my face.
“Wait for me,” I whispered shakily.
By the time I found the cemetery, the sky had already darkened into shades of orange and grey.
It was dusk.
I stood outside the rusted cemetery gates breathing hard, my entire body aching from running for so long.
My wedding shoes dangled from my fingers.
I had taken them off almost an hour ago after they started cutting into my skin so badly I thought my feet would start bleeding.
Now my bare feet were filthy and mud clung to my skin.
The once beautiful white gown hung heavily against my body, dirt smeared across the hem from dragging against roads and wet ground.
I looked ruined and nothing like a bride anymore like grief had physically clawed its way through me.
My chest rose and fell unevenly as I stepped into the cemetery slowly.
Everything was quiet except for the faint sound of evening wind moving through the trees.
The location Patricia gave me repeated over and over in my head as I searched desperately between rows of graves.
My hands trembled harder with every step I took.
And soon, I found her.
The gravestone stood near a large tree at the far end of the cemetery, the sight clawed at my chest seeing how lonely it looked.
I dropped to my knees so hard the impact sent pain shooting through them, but I barely felt it.
“No…”
"Mom..." I gasped with bitterness.
My fingers shook violently as I crawled closer through the dirt and saw her name permanently carved into stone.
The sight shattered whatever was left inside me.
“Mom…”
I collapsed forward against the grave, my shoulders shaking uncontrollably.
The cold stone pressed against my skin as tears poured endlessly down my face.
“I’m sorry,” I cried brokenly. “I’m so sorry…”
I couldn’t stop shaking.
She was really gone and buried beneath the earth while I was trapped in a wedding dress marrying a man I hated.
My chest heaved as I struggled to breathe properly.
“I tried,” I whispered desperately through sobs. “I swear I tried to save you…”
I cried harder.
I gripped the grass tightly with trembling fingers.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I whispered painfully.
Fresh tears blurred my vision again. “Why didn’t you tell me you had a twin sister? Why didn't you tell me I even had a stepsister?”
The betrayal hurt almost as much as the grief. She never told me anything about Patricia, Morgana, not even about my father.
Why?
Was she ashamed?
Trying to protect me?
Or was the past really so terrible she wanted to bury it forever?
I wiped at my face angrily, but the tears wouldn’t stop.
“I don’t understand any of this…” I whispered shakily to the grave.
I lowered my forehead gently against the gravestone again and cried quietly until my body physically started feeling numb from exhaustion.
Then suddenly, a man's voice paused my grieving.
“Hey.”
My breath hitched as I lifted my head.
- Writer
