ALMOST A BRIDE (Open On Annie)

1

A broken Louboutin- is not a pretty sight.

A naked woman on top of your boyfriend- is not a pretty sight.

Your boyfriend wearing nipple clamps-is not a pretty sight.

But, do you want to know what’s worse?

Try the inside of a holding cell.

I was still shaking from the shock of everything that had just happened. My hand was bandaged and stinging from where the blade had sliced into me, and my head was throbbing from being smashed into the floor. To make matters worse, I was sandwiched between what appeared to be a crack addict on a bad comedown, an old leather skinned woman who was babbling about ‘the invasion’ (whatever that was) and what was clearly a ‘working girl’.

I was desperate for a moment alone, but there was no privacy. The toilet was completely open and reeked of urine and sour vomit, a chipped concrete basin, solitary dripping tap and a make-shift toilet roll holder completed the minimalist decor. 

“What ya in for babe?” A raspy voice suddenly piped up.

I turned and came face to face with a barely covered boob.

“Um…”

“I’m Angel by the way,’ She extended her hand, and not wanting to offend- I wasn’t ofay with the finer points of criminal etiquette - I shook it.

“I’m not really sure actually.”

She scoffed loudly, “I know what ya mean babe. Sometimes I think they harass me for the sake of it. This is the 3rd time this month I’ve been here.”

“Me too.” Said the older woman, “And all I’m trying to do is warn people about the impending invasion.”

Angel looked at me and rolled her eyes, “Yes, yes Margie we know. The flying saucers and little green men-“

“They’re not green, they’re grey!” She cut her off angrily.

“Pink, purple, blue whatever.” The sarcasm in Angels voice was undeniable.

And then without warning, Margie jumped up, rather nibbley for a women who looked like she was on the wrong side of a hundred ““This is what I’m talking about. You mock me now, but wait until they’re here with their probes and their mind control devices and their DNA assimilation technology that clones us all and turns us into drones and -"

Margie barely had a chance to finish her sentence when, “BANG”, Angel pushed her. Alien lady wasted no time in pushing her back, and soon I was watching a live episode of Jerry Springer. Margie was screaming something about the pyramids being transporter beacons and Tom Cruise being involved, while Angel taunted her by flashing her boobs. Even the crack addict joined in, making a strange cackling sound that I assume was meant to resemble laughter- disturbing. 

 I’d never seen anything like it before.

 I didn’t belong here.

I really, really didn’t belong here.

“Miss Anderson.” One of the guards came up to the cell and started unlocking the gate, “You’re free to go.”

“Oh thank God, “ The relief was instant and I practically threw myself out of the cell, leaving as fast as I could without daring to look back at my fellow inmates who were now on the floor wrestling each other. But the warm relief soon melted away when I saw Trev. He looked every bit the lawyer wearing that crisp, sauve black suit and clicking his expensive Monte Blanch pen impatiently. He looked up and saw me.