Dearranged Marriage.


Sol Samuels. 


Only she remembered what happened on her wedding… 


Looking at herself in the mirror she takes a deep breath. Ready for the events ahead. The wedding dress had cost her father a couple of thousand. It won't remain white for long. 


The planning for the wedding had started almost four years before. Not that she was allowed to have any involvement. All decisions were made by her father and the father of her future husband. Two powerful families united by marriage. An arranged marriage that she had no choice in. Everything, the venue, her dress, who sat where, even her husband. None of which she would have any say in. 


From the moment she was born her whole life had been planned, dictated by her father. Not once was she allowed to make a choice. As a girl in their culture it was her duty to be a wife and child bearer. Nothing more. 


Life was so much easier for her brother. No dictatorial orders from their father, free to make his own choices. Even choose his own bride. What was even more frustrating and what she found disgusting was that he was free to “Try” as many girls he wanted before making his choice. And so that's what he did. Dated and fucked as many girls as he wanted before choosing one to wed. At no point did he consider the consequences of his actions. Those girls that he used for his enjoyment and then tossed aside were considered “Used Up”. No man in their culture wanted anything but their perfect virgin bride. None of those girls would be able to carry out their “Duty” to the culture and their family by marrying. Two were even left as single mothers, left to fend for themselves. Outcast from the culture. 


Her family were not the only ones planning. For weeks she planned, all leading to this day. Beholding the image of the “Faithful Bride” she clasps her fingers around the handle as she smiles looking at the cold steel blade of the knife. 


As the Imam begins the ceremony she quickly despatches her would-be husband with a quick slash across his throat, followed rapidly by the Imam. In moments she is the only one still standing. Blood dripping knife still in her hand, splatters of blood on her wedding dress. 

Only she remembered what happened on her wedding, as no one else survived to tell the tale.