Ten Oh Five

Content Warning: Non-graphic depiction of drugging and vomiting.

10:03:02

The light shined bright from the windows, too bright.

Her head was pounding, stable vibrations coursing through her skull.

TUMP

TUMP

10:03:03

TUMP

10:03:15

She forced herself up, the couch just a few centimeters away from the full sized mirror she wanted in her living room.

SLIP.

She fell on her face, her feet caught in her floor length white dress.

The dress.

She was supposed to do something today.

10:03:15

Yes. yes.

She was getting married.

Her hair was a mess, the usually beautiful auburn curls were tangled, forced in an elastic too small for them.

The red lipstick painted her face, smeared on her cheeks.

The thick coat of mascara was losing to gravity, she looked like she had been crying.

Her eyes all puffy, red.

Her beautiful green eyes.

10:03:16

She dragged herself toward the kitchen island, the smell of coffee guided her towards the carefully placed mug on her beautiful marble countertop.

Coffee?

She tripped again, she forced herself to turn her gaze to the mirror, bracing for the horror she was about to see.

10:03:17

She was wearing her wedding dress.

10:03:25

It was stained, tainted.

How was she supposed to walk down the aisle in such conditions?

She was getting married. Was she?

10:03:25

– Mia?

– Mia are you awake?

The voice is familiar, a woman she must have known once.

10:03:27

She forced the coffee mug to her lips, the warmth of the liquid burning as she took the first sip.

She touched her face, flinching at the pain in her left cheek.

A hand print, bright and red, sat comfortably on the left side of her dishevelled face.

Was she in a fight?

10:03:45

She was kneeling. The toilet in front of her was filling up with the content of her stomach.

The train on her white gown spread out on the blue tiles of her, recentl renovated, bathroom.

– Good, get it all out.

– You need to purge it all out.

Such odd words from the woman holding her hair.

Mia?

No.

Mia was her name.

So who was the stranger holding her hair in place while she regurgited everything that happened the night before?

10:03:45

She laid on the bathroom floor, looking up at the ceiling.

It was spinning.

Fast.

Too fast.

She reached for the toilet again. Nothing left in her stomach, nothing left to get out.

The bitter, acidic, taste of coffee and vomit coated her mouth.

The tooth brush.

Yes.

She needed toothpaste and mouth wash.

TUMP.

TUMP.

TUMP.

Her head kept pounding, spinning.

She gripped herself onto the sink, pulling up with her arms.

– Mia, dear.

– Let me help you up.

That woman. She knew that woman.

Marissa.

Yes.

Her maid of honour. Her best friend.

She had to know what happened last night.

“Ma..”

“Mar..”

“Marissa!”

Speaking was hard, incredibly hard.

With every sound her throat constricted, like lava pouring down her esophagus.

– Yes Mia, I’m here.

– I will always be here.

10:03:58

She spit the minty liquid down the sink, relieving herself of that awful taste stuck to her tongue.

Her eyes widened. Fragments of the night before her wedding flooding like a broken dam.

Two drinks, then nothing.

10:03:59

TUMP.

10:04:02

She was back on the couch. The fake leather sticking to her bare arms.

She had to get ready. She was getting married.

Her vision was blurred, her hair knotted.

So knotted.

Her phone.

Her phone?

Where did she leave her phone last night?

The flood in her mind started again.

Lights, music. The bass was too loud.

Her legs naked, the dress she was wearing.

A sparkling party dress.

When did she put on her wedding gown

When did she get home?

– We had too much fun last night.

– Isn’t that right Mia?

No. It wasn’t right.

She traced her steps in her mind.

Two drinks. Then.

Then what?

She. YES!

She went to the bathroom, she asked Marissa to keep a look on her drink.

Marissa. Marissa. Marissa?

– We have to start getting ready.

10:04:16

She was looking in the mirror, really looking.

She had no makeup on.

Her hair styled in a makeshift updo.

Her dress. Her dress was different.

Not stained.

Cleaned.

– I’m not good with hair.

– But my dress fits you perfectly.

Her dress?

An off white, knee length dress. Off shoulders.

Marissa.

The drink. The bubbles. Too many bubbles.

Spiked.

Her phone. Marissa had her phone.

She coughed. Her throat was not burning now.

– I had to cut off your dress.

– I didn’t have time to undo it.

10:04:22

“Marissa.” “My phone.”

She was finally able to talk. Her head was not pounding.

She was getting married. Was she?

– Love, you left it at the club.

– Remember.

No. She had it. She had to have had it.

She turned around. Her face regaining some color.

“Marissa. Give me my phone.”

“NOW”

The woman looked at her. Disbelief.

Marissa was perfect. Her make up was done perfectly, her dress hugged her every curve.

Another dress?

Another white gown?

She scoffed. Looking for something hidden in her clutch.

THE PHONE!

10:04:29

She opened her pink iphone, it recognized her face.

Yes!

Her mom left a message, two hours prior.

I’ll be there by 10:05, be ready.

She was coming to get her.

10:04:29

Pitch black. Everything was black.

10:04:32

Her eyes opened slightly, the woman in white had something in her hand.

Her head. It was pounding again.

– You are not getting married today.

– I won’t allow it.

– You won’t take him from me again. No.

Marissa.

Her fiance. And Marissa.

She was seeing it clearly now.

Chris. Yes.

CHRIS.

10:04:45

She pulled herself up from the couch.

This couch. She wanted to burn it.

To see it go up in flames.

She was starting to remember.

Marissa. Chris. Her ex.

Her best friend introduced them to each other, two years before that night.

Was she still in love with him?

“Mar…”

“Marissa..”

10:05:00

…

10:05:01

KNOCK.