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Priscilla pressed the purple corsage against her breast until it pricked her finger and blood trickled down. No one noticed when she stared into the mirror, and couldn't find the child of her own reflection. The sunlit room did little to absorb her chilled expression, or bring back carefree days before chosen as a child-bride. The women in their long flowered dresses skirted the clapboard floor in busy preparation for her wedding, as if it were an everyday ritual.
No one noticed how she walked, as if on wooden shoes, unable to shake the wedge of fear building like an explosive rift. She attempted to look through the only window and go back in time, past the smell of fresh cut hay bales on a golden-green landscape. A soft breeze stroked her ivory cheeks as she looked past the candy apple barn that anchored this society of women, hidden by miles of endless turns, on a forgotten road of deciduous soil. But her minds eye gets pulled back to the terror of last night. She told him. "But I'm a virgin." This only ignited his copper eyes with amusement. "OW! You're hurting me." She said, as he twisted his grip on her arms. When he threw her down, he consumed her like kindling fire. No ceremonial washing could rid herself of his sulfur breathe on her tender flesh. This man she is to marry, is the one who raped her, and the long dirt road she eyed can't bring back the child inside.
As the double doors opened, she thought, why do the women smile with red fairytale cheeks, and the corners of their mouths never sour? They only encouraged her to continue this walk of shame, with words of fisted praise. They must know her pain, and why she walks stilted. It felt like she had been punched from below all the way into her belly, but bravely, somehow she managed to square her shoulders forward.
All eyes gazed upon her. The ancient organ beat through the walls and shook the floor. The bridegroom with silver hair, and bushy eyebrows spied her, and offered his charmed grin. For her part, she held a waxed smile, and kept pace with the music.
Only death could free her now, but there were no instruments at her side, no knife to plunge deep into her knotted heart. Her only escape at the altar was to die inside, to say the vows as an empty shell, a mannequin, a replica of herself.
After the exchange of vows, he turned to smile at everyone, and looked to catch her lips, but hers were like rubber, and it triggered anger deep inside. He meant to take her home, and to punish her for it. He intended to break her will, and wanted to possess her spirit. He spat into her ear. " Soon, I will have you like candy."
She looked blankly from the horse drawn carriage, as clumps of dirt left their mark on the rich red soil. The extended family of wives and elders held their hands to the sky, and stood planted to the ground as the setting sun arched over the hills. The old man gave slack to his reins as they forged toward the wooden bridge, lined with a canopy of fertile trees. His eyes turned the color of the red soil, and reflected to her his depraved vision.
As the horses slowed to a trot across the bridge, she turned slightly away from his soiled eyes. She bolted from the carriage door with lightning reflex! She felt the beating air of freedom run thru her body, leaving a splintered rail behind. Plunging into a vortex of water, she narrowly missed the jagged rocks.
The rushing water drowned most curses from above, as she surfaced long enough to gulp the air, and kept tied to the current, until thick shadows of trees hid her near a trailhead. As her shivering body dug into an uneven bank of clay, she sensed the shape of a new future unfolding toward a glimmer of light from a house in the distance. Burning legs found new strength beneath her tattered gown, and she rushed toward the place that held the promise of a paved road to freedom.
"And fear not them which kill the body, but are not able to kill the soul: but rather fear him which is able to destroy both soul and body in hell." (KJV)
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