Imprisoned Hearts

I stood in the kitchen looking out the window into a back garden full of weeds. There wasn’t a speck of grass in sight. The garden seemed to plead for help, as it sat desolate and alone under a blue sky with sunshine streaming down. Like the little garden, I felt alone. My real father was in prison and a jerk—he wouldn’t be saving me from this unbearable life either.

Today Beatrice and Miguel would officially marry each other, and I wanted no part of it. Alas, here I stood, in my white bridesmaid’s dress, which looked more like a hideous wedding dress. The tight long-sleeves exploded into very poofy shoulders. The whole A-line bodice of the dress shimmered in rhinestones, and had an even more unfortunate bulky skirt covered in pleats. The heavy dress made me ill, something far too juvenile for me to wear, but again, wearing it stopped Beatrice’s nagging me about not supporting her special day.

At least Krisany would be at the celebration, the others I would avoid. I wanted nothing to do with those who Beatrice called friends.

“Alice, get your ass in the car,” Miguel said coming down the stairs.

Pleasant as ever.

I made my way outside without a word, though the dress hindered my ability to do anything quickly. By the time I got out the front door, Miguel was already in the driver seat, glaring at me. Squeezing my voluptuous dress into the back seat took even longer, and yet Beatrice still hadn’t come out of the house.

Miguel’s eyes glared at me through the rearview mirror. “Any funny business during this celebration and I’ll kill you tomorrow. Do you understand me?”

I nodded, though I imagined myself gouging his eyeballs out.

“Answer me so I can hear you.” He reached back, but, hindered by his seatbelt, only could touch the fabric of my dress.

“I understand.”

Miguel nodded and pulled out a flask from his suit coat pocket. Uncorking it, he took a drink and turned around, keeping the flask in his hand.

Beatrice stepped out of the house in her cap-sleeve, pastel-blue, crystal-covered princess ball gown. Picking up the material of her skirt, she ran to the car, opened the door and struggled to climb inside. “Be careful with your gown. I can take it back and get my money refunded tomorrow. I never should have bought something like that for such an ungrateful, little brat.” She smiled at Miguel who took another drink from his flask and put it back in his coat pocket. “Did you tell her no drama?”

“Yes, Mother, he did,” I said, answering for him.

Beatrice sniffed from the front seat and adjusted the tiara on her head. “Why don’t you go jump in a pool somewhere and drown yourself.”

I laughed, gobsmacked. She was the one who demanded I be present for her farce of a wedding. If it were up to me, I wouldn’t have gotten into the car.

Beatrice turned on the water works, looking like she was about to cry. Miguel took off the shoulder strap of the seatbelt and put it behind him. “What did you say to her, Alice?”

Seeing his rising anger, I didn’t reply.

Miguel turned around and reached for me, but Beatrice threw out her hand and gazed at her lover. “Baby, stop. We don’t have time for this, we need to get to the church. We can beat her later.”

I dug my fingernails into the palms of my hands and imagined driving the tiara into Beatrice’s head.

“All right, love.” Miguel leaned over and kissed Beatrice on the lips.

“I don’t taste any alcohol, love,” Beatrice said, taking his hand.

“That’s because it’s water, babe. Don’t get used to it. I plan on indulging myself tonight,” he said with a smile.

When do you not indulge yourself, you maniac?

“Save me a drink?” Beatrice asked.

“Every time, beautiful girl.” Miguel started the car and pulled away from the house.

At the next traffic light that turned red, they started snogging. I shut my eyes and threw my hand over my mouth to stifle a groan.