Forgetting Someone

The church bells start to sing their stabbing screech. This is it. I closed my eyes and see dark and the tinge of redness that supposed to be my reminder that there’s still the blood of life inside me. I opened my eyes just in time to see the great oak doors split by a beam of blinding light. The two doors, to my horror and my expectation, swung open revealing its long blood-red tounge leading towards the perfumed monsters. With both of my sides blocked by the force of sacrifice, leaving only the aisle as the available direction, I started to walk. I  took a step on that bloodthirsty tounge and wondered how many women liked me had this tounge licked to death? How many women did it forced towards the false fantasy of the monsters waiting at the end of its tounge? As I stepped closer and closer towards the masked men, my eyes shifted to the crowds beside me. All of them dressed in black and white as if it could divert a stranger’s gaze from their empty souless eyes. Hypocrites. Even the ones I share blood with. No one was trying to stop me. No one noticed. Behind me was no comfort as well. Little girls that are bound to become woman throws petals along the blood-stained linen we walk upon on believing that this is a fairytale in the making, I fear for them. I fear that one day their dreams would betray them and that thy too shall walk upon this wretched aisle as I am now. With the last final steps, I try to forget. I try to forget the little girl who dreamed of a happy life, of the girl who promised to find the right one, the girl who fell in love with a guy, try to forget the girl who said yes, try to forget the girl who naively got bossed around

I stopped.

The devil smiled at me.

The fallen angel opens the book.

The Judases held the ring.

Hades smiles.

Death waits.

I closed my eyes.

Life tears.

Peter Pan grew up.

Alice woke up.

An Immortal died.

“And do you accept this guy as your lawfully wedded husband?”

Tears roll back.

The woman is dead.

A Phoenix froze.

I forgot who I am. And at that point, when I was sure I have let go of myself– I answered.

“I do.”