Red and white

November 4, 2010
The crowd was all dressed in black, like someone was being laid to rest, and yet there was no coffin. It wasn’t a funeral, no; it was the exact opposite, a wedding. A wedding that looked as if some one had taken a picture of the scene and left the film in the negative. Hues of purple and red lined the drapery that had slithered around the ceiling. The aisle in the middle was made to resemble a path of paper. The image was perfect, so perfect it was as if someone had projected it from within my heart.

The men that stood behind me like body guards all wore matching headbands with symbols of either a leaf or lines to represent rain. The metal from them shined as bright as the moon, that now hung so elegantly in the sky, as it watched over our ceremony. Beside us the bride’s maids smiled, and the sight was enough to warm any person’s heart. They were waving Japanese fans, anxiously waiting for the bride to reveal herself from her hiding place.

It had felt like hours had gone by until she finally did walk out in to the opening. The first glimpse I had of her instantly melted my heart as if it was a candle. Her flowing purple dress caressed her body ever so perfectly, and the origami rose in her hair echoed the color of her dress, causing my whole body to stop, pull the brakes, and shut down. I couldn’t move anything in my body and it was as is all my gears but one had rusted to a halt; all but a single tear moved, slowly rolling down my face, as if it was trying to escape from view.

At that moment she smiled, and it brought me back to life. Dorothy had finally oiled the tin-man, and given him a heart. She walked down the aisle as if it was the yellow brick road. As she stepped up onto the platform ours eyes met and as they did they seemed to lock together as if some power was controlling them.

At that thought I began to laugh at the irony twisted, like a vine inside the metaphor. My eyes did have a power to them, a power so dark and evil, it puts fear into any one who comes walking into my vision. They have deep red iris, and pupil, and a pitch black etching in the iris that resembles a three bladed windmill. The vast amount of energy they hold could level a city in mere minutes, burning the place with black flames that seem to lick from the depths of h*** itself.

Yet, for that day, I decided to behave. The world around me won’t be an anthill for me to burn with a magnifying glass. Instead I had planed to keep this day violent free, like I tried to every day in this world full of wars. A world that fought over land, like children fighting over their toys and who gets to play with what. All the fighting is just revenge, a chain of hatred that never ends. Except for this day, a day of peace. It was a ceasefire for at least twenty-four hours. Not a drop of blood will be spilled today, and happiness can roam the fields free from harm.

“I do,” I heard spoken ever so softly next to me, broke my daydream like a rock breaking ripples into a flat lake. The wedding had begun and I had been in a different world. It was time to land back on Earth.

The man in front of me asked me the same as he did to my love and I repeated the words she uttered, only hers came out like a cute little sheep and my words came out like the low growl of a lion. In front of me my answer was acknowledged, and the man finalized the ceremony asking for the first kiss.

As our lips met I could feel the energy pouring in to my body; flowing through every vein and racing back up like a jolt of electricity. The warmth it created made me feel invincible, and strong, strong enough to fight an army of soldiers trained to kill. Nothing could stop me in that moment, but if it did I would die happy and peaceful as if my life had been perfect. That’s exactly what that day had become; perfect.





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