Bouquet of Thorns

“Such a wonderful reception” she thinks to herself

“This is insanity, my life will never be the same”

This truly is the happiest day of her life

It’s everything she’s ever dreamed of,

Her husband too.

She takes a moment to soak it all in

She surveys the venue, astonished at all the laughing faces

She’s frequently interrupted from her ogling

There are many visitors to her table, praising and congratulating her

As modestly as she can she thanks them

She’s in awe she’s been a part of the perfect wedding,

Even if every bride’s wedding is the perfect wedding

In her mind, the ceremony is flawless

In one swift motion, the joy on her face is abruptly wiped away

The love in her eyes dries up

She rushes to place her hands over her ears

She rises to her feet but stumbles, pulling the tablecloth down with her

Dishes and silverware come crashing down

Her newly wed husband comes to her aid

Guests stare in confusion, the room filled with gasps

One of the bridesmaids panics and dials 9-1-1

The bride shouts and pleads for them to stop the music

The groom motions to the DJ to incite silence

His attempts are unsuccessful, the song continues to wail

The groom barrels towards the DJ’s equipment like a madman, yanking at whatever cords and wires he can get a hold of

The music stops

A crowd of close relatives lifts the bride to her feet

She insists she’s fine

“It was just-“ she hesitates “I hate that song” she laughs it off

Her smile morphs to a stale look of disgust as she watches the DJ angrily exit the building

Her husband interrupts “A toast!”

“To my beautiful wife and our shitty DJ”

The room erupts with claps and laughter

Once again, she is met with warmth and solace at the hands of her guests

They praise her like a goddess, like some divine beast pure with innocence

Her husband interrupts with a pinch of envy in his tone. “Hun, can you go grab us some more drinks”

She wanders to the bar, a bit surprised by the number of empty seats

“Two Rum & Cokes” she shouts to the bartender, she turns to face the crowd

Basking in the celebration of her love will never get old

She has never known this kind of pleasure

She hears a glass slide across the wooden foundation of the bar behind her

“Take your shots” the bartender commands her

“No I ordered two rum an-“ she turns to face the bartender when she sees five shot glasses perched upon the bar

“It’s time to take your shots” the bartender’s voice grows in volume

In a gruesome display of horror, the paint melts off of the walls, transforming into a dismal grey

She whips around to her guests, only to find the world around her losing color

The walls collapse inwards, people begin to rapidly dissipate

She looks to her groom, with his hands stretched to her, he fades to dust

“No!” She screams “No!”

In confusion she turns back to face the bartender

“It’s time to take your shots!” Her nurse repeats even louder

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The Agency: Night Owl