Raindrops

The silence in her bedroom was interrupted by the rain drops fiercely hitting the window. Laying on her bed pretending to sleep, her gaze was fixed on the raindrops straggling to stay in format when reaching the window panes. Sunlight breaks the dark room beaming through the window. She puts a small effort to turn her head to the other side of the room running away from the light. The alarm’s noise overshadows the drumming rain. This time her eyes can’t lie about sleeping. “It’s here.” Her thoughts woke up to this phrase. “My so-called dream day. I worked so hard for this moment. I am marrying the love of my life but I never thought big weddings matter more than the marriage. But it’s for our families’ sake.” Her brain starts remembering moments of refusal from both sides about every detail she wanted to discuss about her wedding day, including the groom, how many people are coming, the menu options, the flowers' colors and sizes. The cake's decoration, her own wedding dress was the worst of them all.

She hops out of the bed, trying to find her positivity and good vibes to carry on with this special day. A hasty knock on her door followed by a great push.

“Oh great! You’re up,” her sister shouted while jumping to the room. “Let’s get started on the schedule. We need to start earlier because of this rain. Ugh! It’s the worst time ever to rain. Anyways let’s go.”

They both leave the room.

At the church, she starts dressing herself. The gown completes her body. It radiates her skin and looks. Still, her absent-minded phase took over. She stares at the rain smashing to the window panes. Oh, how she wishes to be one of those drops. She can feel the freedom of every descendent drop of rain, liberated.

The sister/bridesmaid jumps to the room with an awe sound escapes her mouth for the bride's breathtaking looks. “This here is what they call a bridal look that they need to copy. You look amazing; are you ready?”

“Yes, I just need to put on the veil,” answers the bride after realizing who was talking.

Instantly, her phone rings and vibrates nonstop, which startled the sisters and they turned heads simultaneously. The screen shows a private number.

She looks at the screen with a confused look. “Who could this be? Has Jack arrived?” she asks the confused sister.

“Yes, he’s been here for more than ten minutes,” the sister answers quickly.

“Hello!” she answers the phone.

“Hello, are you Sara Parkers?” asks the voice from the phone.

“Yes, who is this?” shakily, asks Sara.

“Are you marrying Jack Locus?” asks the voice knowing the answer already.

“Yes, can you tell me who you are?” Sara asks while losing her patience.

“My name is Helen. I know your husband, Jack.” Finally, she answers.

“So? He knew a lot of girls before we met,” Sara exhales.

“No, no, that’s not what I meant,” Helen hurried. “Jack has a history, and by marrying him you will be involved too.” She continues, “I was looking for you for more than three months. I know you may not believe me.” She exhales, “Just stop the whole thing and don’t marry him, please.” She hangs up.

Her sister doesn’t wait for Sara’s response to get out of the room and call her parents for help.

Sara’s head was down staring at her phone, when she realized she was looking at a black screen. She lifted her head up and continued gazing at the raindrops. “Is this my window pane?” Sara obliviously murmured to herself.