It’s been a while since I last graced my readers with a little fiction on my blog. Prepare yourself.
Today marks the 4th 24 Hour Short Story Contest via WritersWeekly.com that I have participated in thus far. Now, granted, no wins for me yet. To be fair, I’ve only been writing seriously as a fiction writer for 2 years. But, fingers crossed, this might be the winner. Then again, I’m not very fond of this story. Either way, here it is, for your enjoyment (or torture): “Bride to Be”. It started as a Happily Ever After story…Apparently, I’m not capable of such things…
She continued to whimper, though her tears dried up sometime during the night. As sticky strands of hair burned her eyes, she questioned her use of hairspray just to look good for her girlfriends.
“Stop crying already,” grumbled her maid of honor. “You’ll dehydrate faster.”
Licking her mouth to try to quench her thirst, “I can’t help it, Olivia.”
“Well, if you wanna get out of this, you have to. Here.”
Olivia scooted over to her, handing her a bottle of water.
With her head propped against the windshield of her friend’s bowrider, she rocked her head to look at Olivia, “That’s the last of our water. You drink it.”
“This is your party. You drink it.”
“Was my party,” she said as she wept tearless again.
“Drink. You’ll feel better. I’ll be okay.”
“Thanks,” she sniffled a dry sniffle.
The heat played tricks on her mind as she drank the last few sips of water. First it tasted like coffee, then salt water. Her last sip she swore tasted like the tequila they polished off three nights ago.
“Tasted like tequila.”
They both flickered smiles as they leaned back against the plexiglass windshield of the boat. Unable to move, her eyes rolled toward Olivia “How is everyone?”
“Gloria’s still breathing.”
Her lip quivered at her friend’s words.
“I covered her with a towel to to keep the sun off her. How do you feel?”
“This is the worst bachelorette party ever.”
They remained quiet for a time. Only the sound of the gentle waves lapping the side of the boat entered their ears. Finally, the bride-to-be spoke, “I thought you said you knew how to drive this thing.”
“I do. Can’t fix it though. How was I to know the engine would cease?”
“No, you’re right. I’m sorry.”
“What time is it?”
“Why do you keep asking?”
“Just do. I heard you can live for like three days without water.”
She felt the boat spin. Opening her eyes, she saw it was her mind playing tricks on her.
“My phone battery died yesterday. Remember?”
They remained quiet again for a length of time neither could decipher.
“I’m going to check on Gloria,” Olivia said at last. “Stay here.”
“Where am I gonna go?” She lifted her hand in irritation. Flopping it back down onto the hull of the ship stung her knuckles, but had no energy to nurse it.
“This really is the worst party ever.”
“Not a chance.” Her friend’s voice sounded muffled and far away.
“Does it look like any of us are having fun?”
“Well, no,” she responded. This time her voice sounded as if it came from inside an old jug. “But hey, its better than Sarah’s bachelorette.”
This can’t be good, the bride-to-be thought. Tunnel vision? Tunnel hearing? Is that even possible? I’m not gonna make it.
“Sarah,” she thought out loud, the boat spinning faster behind her eyelids. “She died at that party.”
“And you haven’t. Ergo…”
“We’re totally bad luck.”
The bride-to-be swore she heard crinkling sounds. Then again, the waves started sounding like people clapping, then people talking. She opened her eyes for clarification that none of this was true. Only blue sky, blue water, her blistered legs, and the bow of the boat. The bare horizon dipped in and out of view over the tip of the boat, her feet fell in and out of focus. Then, while in focus, she saw another boat heading their direction.
“Hey,” she coughed. “Hey, there’s a boat.”
“Thank goodness,” Olivia said as she leapt to her feet. “Where?”
She tried to follow her maid of honor to her feet, but she had no energy left.
Each time the bow dipped low enough to see it, the oncoming boat grew in size. The bride-to-be flickered a smile that cracked and burned. She did not care. They were saved.
“Where were you,” Olivia spat at what turned out to be the groom.
My knight in shining armor.
“I lost track of time. Sorry, beautiful.”
Waves of relief and love flooded through the bride-to-be, giving her energy to look up at her knight and the horse he rode in on. He never looked more handsome. She watched as Olivia hugged him continuing to wonder where she stored all her energy.
“Oh, my love,” the bride-to-be said, “You saved me. You…Wait. What are you doing?”
Certain the sun and lack of water played tricks on her, she shook her head and peered back at Olivia and her knight. Nothing changed. They were still embraced in passionate kissing.
“Stop it,” she croaked, her throat burning, her mind circling.
“Oh shut it,” Olivia barked.
Finally unlatching from each other, he asked, “Where are the other two?”
“They’re dead ‘cause you took so long. Try explaining to Steve why his fiancee is dead.”
“Steve? But Steve was Sarah’s fiancee.” The bride-to-be had no idea what was happening and hoped it was all due to sun exposure.
Olivia smiled, “And Collins here is mine.”
“But, but,” was all she could muster.
“But, but but. Get over it. Come on, sweetie. Let’s leave your bride-to-be here to figure it out for herself.”
“Where are you going? Don’t leave me here.”