The Wedding Fiasco

It was a hot, sunny day as the bright rays hit my face through the car window. It was 10:00 am in the morning and my family and I were going to the church for a wedding. Not just any wedding; it was for my older sister, Kristine. I was a bit joyful that she would be leaving, and I would get two bedrooms for myself. But, deep inside me, I was filled with sadness and sorrow that Kristine would be leaving. She was like a second mother to me and she shared her experiences with me. I had so many great memories with her and they would all be gone with a snap. Well, memories from when I was little.

    Ever since Kristine had turned 25 years old, my parents started finding grooms for her. Well, it was only for three weeks, until my sister found her soulmate on a dating app. Even though I tried hiding her phone, she found it and screamed in my face. I didn’t want her to leave, but she would anyway.

    The car ride was silent as my parents sat in the front seat, discussing the guests who were and weren’t able to come to the wedding. In the back seat, Kristine sat on one side and I sat on the other, both staring out of the window. Kristine was in her beautiful white wedding dress, with shiny pearls along the border and gold accents. I didn’t dare talk to her, knowing I would burst into tears. 

      I patted down my plain, white dress and adjusted my flower crown. In the middle seat was my wooden basket filled with lovely rose petals. Yes; I was the flower girl. It wasn’t an option, it was a must-do from my parents. My sister got to choose her bridesmaid, which was her best friend; Charlotte. 

     The groom’s name was Keith Carlson, or my new brother in law. When my family met him, he was nice to me. He brought Kristine a bouquet and chocolates, and he let me play games on his phone. He also took Kristine and me to a bakery, where I could eat chocolate cake.

    Our SUV parked in front of Sunnyside Church, and my family got out of our vehicle. The parking lot was filled with cars. Somehow I knew we were already late to my sister’s own wedding. Our family rushed to the front doors to see guests were seated and Keith as well as the priest were at the front waiting for Kristine. But before my sister went, I walked down the aisle holding a basket of rose petals. I tossed the petals down the walkway, smiling at the guests who stared at me with a little grin. As I reached the priest and Keith, I waited for Kristine. 

     My gorgeous sister walked along the grand, red carpet, followed by Charlotte and my parents. Kristine made her way to the stage and faced the groom. 

     As the room was filled with silence, the priest said, “Now let us humbly invoke God’s blessing upon this bride and groom, that in his kindness he may favor with his help those on whom he has bestowed the Sacrament of Matrimony.”

     “In the sight of God and these witnesses, I now pronounce you husband and wife! You may now kiss!” the priest said to the bride and groom. As the new couple slowly were about to do as the priest told, the front doors slammed open, and three men with rifles shot twelve people, including Keith’s aunt. What once was silence was filled with screams, shouts, and sobs. Everyone ran their separate ways for their lives. Holding hands, Kristine and Keith attempted to run to the closest exit, but a killer held back my sister and had a sharpened knife near her neck. Keith couldn’t do anything, but run for his own life, giving his bride a quick glance as he ran away. 

  I was under a table and saw the situation my sister was in. I didn’t know what to do, until I saw a phone. I grabbed it and swiped the emergency call. With my trembling hands, I clicked the button 9.1.1. In 20 seconds, the 911 operator answered. I told them about the crisis immediately, my voice cracking. 

     As I ended the call, my sister was choking, the knife was almost halfway through her neck. Kristine’s face looked like she was about to puke. Before I could run to save her, her head fell to the ground. Her body collapsed, and the murderer ran to look for his gang.

    I gasped. This was it, my sister’s story. Someone killed her at her own wedding. Tears started rushing down my cheeks like a hurricane. I broke into sobs and screams. I weeped like I could never before. My sister is gone, a voice kept repeating in my head. I didn’t get to say goodbye; I didn’t say anything. I crouched down near my sister’s dead corpse and cried, cried, cried. 

     Soon, ambulances and police cars arrived, their sirens blaring loudly, alarming me to get up. They rushed into the church as fast as they could to handle the situation. Policemen searched around the entire church for the three killers, but the murderers had vanished. The police made sure they would take up the investigation, so no one else would be hurt by the criminals. The bodies that were shot were taken to the hospital by the ambulance. 

     I couldn’t tell what was happening. My eyes were blurred with all my tears. I made out two people running towards me, and I realized it was my parents. As they both reached me, they hugged me fiercely and scanned me for injuries. I hugged them too tight, and cried even more into my mom’s gown. “What happened, hon?” she asked me. I looked up from her shirt, into her sweet, hazel eyes, with my body throwing up emotions and feelings. I pointed slowly to my sister’s dead body. My mom’s beautiful face suddenly turned into a petrified one. Tears slowly fell down her soft cheeks. She looked at my dad, who started weeping too. We all were thinking about her, my beautiful, brave sister. “I’m sorry,” I finally said, sobbing. “I did nothing, but watched my own sister die. I watched her head fall off, and did nothing. This is my fault.”

   My sad, miserable father looked me into the eye and said, “No, it’s not your fault, sweetie. It’s done, it’s over. We can’t do anything about it now.” He hugged me tight, as I sobbed into his shirt, replaying the same scene of Kristine’s death over and over again in my mind.

       This was the day of the wedding fiasco.