I stand by the curb, right below the church steps. The cold air stings my face. My fingertips, hard as ice. A few cars drive by, slowly. But no one stops. I just see faces pressed against the windows as they stare. My eyes trail to the ground as I stare at my feet, slightly pursing my lips. I liked these shoes. Oh well.
I hear a car pull up, but my eyes don’t budge. I can’t stop looking at my shoes. My leatherette stiletto heels covered in rhinestone crystals. I knew I’d never wear a pair of shoes like these again. A gown like this again. My hair, like this again.
The loud church bell chimes behind me, my heart jumps as I gasp. exhailing the cold air as I finally look up at the taxi parked in front of me. The driver sits there, clutching the steering wheel. I can see him quivering through the window. I take small steps, opening the backseat door. Holding up the body of my wedding gown as I get inside. The ends of my dress get caught in the door as I close it, causing a small tear at the seams. My three-thousand-dollar dress. A small grin forms on my lips as I chuckle faintly.
“W-where to, ma’am.” The driver utters as his eyes watch me from the rear view mirror.
My rigid eyes meet his. I can see the fear radiating from him. His own life flashing before his eyes. “Just drive until I tell you to stop.” I say.
I look down at the revolver in my blood-stained hands. The blood of my fiancé that dripped from his head wound as I crouched down to give his lifeless body one last kiss at the altar. I gazed down at my shoes again. My leatherette stiletto heels with those beautiful rhinestone crystals. Covered in the blood of his best man, my in-laws, the priest. A few unfortunate wedding guests who didn’t make it to the door in time. I loathed that man. But I really, really loved these shoes.