Losielette And the Boy With The Mechanical Heart

   June 6th 1924 3.24pm

   Rose petals fluttered from the sky and gently embraced the bare parts of Losielette's skin with their silky  touch. Flourescent sunshine shone from the spacious sky, causing her dress to glow an even more blinding white than previously. Surrounding her, she could see the boulevards of apple blossom trees swaying in the breeze and, in the maze of their branches, just make out the tiny bluebirds hopping from branch to branch. Envy lurked within her: how fantastic it would be to grow wings like them and soar away from this horrific moment.

   As Losielette walked further towards her demise, her attention drifted dreamily back to the birds.

   Fly now, whilst you still can, she thought . Otherwise your freedom will be shot down like mine is about to be...

   "Focus!" her father hissed in her ear, tightening his arm around hers.

   She jumped and suddenly was aware of all the eyes gawking at her in the traverse audience again. Her face reddened. Through the sea of spectators she saw her mothers eyes trickling with tears of joy. A lump formed in her throat and reluctantly she stared at the sight in front of her. Under the silky cover of her veil she could make out the crimson red carpet of the aisle dwindling to an end and the man in the extravagant tuxedo drew nearer. She shuddered at the sight of him. It really was time.

   The little maid lifting the train of her dress suddenly let go and allowed the bottom of the fabric to trail across the ground. Simultaneously, her father's tight grasp around her arm loosened entirely and she walked the last few steps of the aisle solitary. It was fitting how she walked the last steps alone; this was her own fall, no one else's. As the aisle drew to an end, the melody of the organ halted and the calm before a storm fell. With a hammering heart, Losielette lifted her legs up over the small step and found herself on the heightened level of the stage. Behind her, she could feel the presence of the priest and in front of her, to her dismay, the man in the tuxedo stood. The man caught her eye and a twisted smirk curled his lips. Losielette's eyes fell to the ground, disgusted. She didn't even want to look at him.

   "Dearly beloved we are gathered here today to witness the joining in holy matrimony of Losielette Waters and Sir Charles Ambergate," the priest announced, catching the eye of everyone in the audience and smiling as if it were a joyous occasion. At the front of the many rows of seats, Losielette heard her mother sob loudly and the priest smiled. "Now, now, Mrs. Waters," he said musingly. "At least wait until the ceremony has begun before you cry with joy."

   The audience murmured a chorus of laughter and a few seconds later Losielette shrieked hysteria, though thankfully, this slip-up went unnoticed.

   The priest then silenced the crowed with a raise of his palms.

   "Now, in the eyes of God, let us begin this joyous ceremony," he said happily.

   Losielettes felt like hundreds of knifes were aimed at her, ready to stab. The pre-marriage ceremony would never be able to last long enough.

 *****

   "Do you, Sir Charles Ambergate, take Losielette Waters to be your lawfully wedded wife?" the priest said.

   Charles grasped Losielette's hands and leaned in closely, forcing her to look deep into his eyes.

 "I do," he said, thumbs running across her hands.

 "And you, Losielette. Do you take Sir Charles Ambergate as your lawfully wedded husband?"

   Losielette slowly felt the effect of the question sink in. It weighed her down, like shackles around her ankles. She opened her mouth but found she couldn't speak.

   Precious seconds ticked away in her hesitation. Looking timidly around the room, she saw her pause hadn't gone unnoticed. Out of the many awestruck faces she could just make out her fathers face reddening in rage. Her mothers head was dipped down into the ground in embarrassment. Guilt riddled her; her own parents were ashamed of her tactlessness.

   Then panic struck her; Charles. How would that awful man react to this? She turned back and looked at Charles. The smug smile he had been wearing all day had vanished. Shock stretched his features but he quickly composed himself. Her meant-to-be-husband's eyes narrowed with blazing rage and he snarled.