I Stole Her Veil
I stole her veil. It was ugly, and didn’t match the dress. Anyway it was after the ceremony so I doubt she noticed, at least not right away. I didn’t want it for any sentimental reasons or anything; I just didn’t think she should have it anymore. That veil covered up her lie, our father’s lie. That veil destroyed my life.
I could hear them fucking on the wedding night. The room I was in was adjacent to theirs, so every fucking gasp, moan, tear, slap was fucking magnified in my fucking ear. He didn’t even pause any time during the foreplay, or the thrusting, to notice that he was fucking the wrong woman. The hips were too skinny, the chest too flat, the wiry hair on the arms and legs were clearly not mine. Even if he didn’t see her face once, he should’ve noticed that everything was wrong.
They didn’t clue me into their plan, obviously. That afternoon I had been all dressed up, in a satin white dress, with white flowers in my hair. I had been soaking in herbs and oils for hours; had spent a good hour-and-a-half powdering and painting my face in front of the mirror. Lea comes in, supposedly to congratulate me. She’s wearing a tea-colored dress herself, which I noticed was distractingly too close to white. I was going to say something about it, but she smooths everything over with her syrupy words.
“You look gorgeous, Ray!” she exclaimed, oozing jealously.
“Thanks,” I said, “hope Jake thinks so.”
The room that I had gotten ready in was large, with a huge window facing the courtyard. My father had that window built for security: you can see the courtyard in full view, but no one can see you. It’s like those double-sided mirrors or something.
After Lea hugs me, she just gushes over and over again about how lucky I am, what a great wife I will be, etc. etc. I’m feeling pretty high on myself by the time she’s done, to tell you the truth.
“One other thing,” she says, “I brought you the veil to see.”
I looked at her surprised. “A veil?” I asked. “You know I’m not into that shit.”
Lea just laughed and took out the ugliest veil I have ever seen. It didn’t even have any lace, it looked like white mesh layered with more and more white mesh.
“Why would I wear that?” I groaned rebelliously. “Jake won’t even be able to tell that it’s me under that thing.”
Lea laughed at that one. “Exactly.”
I didn’t have time to work out what the fuck she was talking about when she locked me in. The room used to be a nursery and is the ONLY room in the house that locks from the outside. I start banging on the door, having a fit. I’m not missing my wedding because my sister is a stupid little bitch.
It didn’t do any good. My father came around after an hour, speaking through the door. He explained that he had vetoed me getting married today, but decided that Jake would still make a good son-in-law. I called him a lot of nasty names and after a little while he gave up reasoning with me, and left me alone.
They got married in the courtyard and I could see the whole thing. I’m not a pussy or anything, but when I saw that tramp get wedded to my man I definitely cried a few. What a slut. How could you do something like that in good conscience?
By the time I woke up the next day, I had resolved I didn’t love him anymore. Maybe it was easier to hate him than them. Maybe after hearing them fuck, it should have been my sister I punched in the face at breakfast. They were all stupid for thinking I’d get over it that quickly.
The maid unlocked me from my prison at a quarter to ten. I was starved and bounded down to the breakfast table, still wearing what was supposed to be my goddamn wedding dress.
“Morning!” said my father brightly.
Jake sat there by himself. Lea must’ve not come down yet. He looked like hell.
“Good morning, you cunt.” I said pleasantly.
“You look different,” he stammered. “ I thought your dress was different.”
“Shut the fuck up, Jake!” I glanced at him coldly. “You are well aware that you just married and boned my sister last night.”
Jake’s face fell. Then I punched him in the eye. He crumpled on the ground, clutching his face like he just got stabbed. Dad didn’t say shit. I was still hungry.
I grabbed a piece of fruit off the table and crammed three pancakes into my mouth at once.
“Whatever,” I said. “I’m going riding.”
I rode the shit out of that horse for three hours till my thighs were throbbing. I think I was just trying to feel something. Maybe also it reminded me of sex.
I took a walk and cursed everything, the sky, the chirping birds, the sun, the flowers, the trees, the grass. I’m pretty sure I covered everything.
I was approaching a tree stump, cursing it as well, when Jake sidled over, his face wet with tears, his eye black as shit.
“I didn’t know, Ray, honest,” he said pleadingly, his brown eyes locking on mine. “This is a catastrophe. Can you ever forgive me?”
I looked him over, his whining and crying and black eye and altogether pathetic ensemble.
“There may be a way,” I said. “Make up for the wedding night I missed, motherfucker.”
Jake took up the cue immediately, kissing my hand, then arm, then neck. Oh, Ray, he exclaimed between kisses and licks. He pulled down my pants, crouched on his knees, kissing my thighs and caressing my lips. His tongue worked wonders down there (always did). He got me on the fucking verge. Then I pushed him down on the ground, unbuckling his pants. His dick was the hardest I’ve seen, and spitting on my hand, I rubbed his shaft till it was wet. Then I was on him, riding hard and sweating harder.
“Fuck yes, you fucking asshole!” I hissed.
Jake didn’t say anything except Oh, Ray, with little moans. I came quickly, and dismounted immediately.
“Hey baby,” he moaned. “Off so soon?”
His dick stood hard in the open air. “Yeah,” I said. “Fuck you. I got mine and now you can wait. Hope you enjoyed that tryst because that shit was the last you’re going to get.”
Jake whined. “But baby, I told you I was sorry. I didn’t know.”
“Like shit you didn’t know. You’ve been trying to get me into a threesome with that bitch for over a year. Hope her pussy is half what mine is, because you’re stuck with that shit for life.”
Jake lay there, his dick still out of his pants and hard, his face begging me to stay. He still looked like hell. I turned around and walked toward the house, not stopping to glance back. I was pretty sure it was time to find my own place.
After packing the essentials in my old yellow-leathered suitcase, I snuck out the back stairs and went onto the open lawn, in plain view of the neighbors. I knew Jake and Lea and Dad were out to dinner and wouldn’t see the commotion for a minute. Using my lighter and some newspaper and twigs, I got a vicious fire going. I saw a couple of douchebags peek from behind their window curtains. When the fire was strong enough, I took that fucking thick, heavy veil and threw it on the violent flames. It caught immediately, blackening and crisping. It was quite a bonfire. The old lady across the street came onto her porch.
“Come look, motherfuckers, this is the lying fucking veil that destroyed my life,” I screamed dramatically. I watched it burn for a couple of minutes, letting its obliteration soak in.
Once satisfied, I walked toward the curb, sticking my thumb out. About ten minutes later I was riding in a moving van with three college kids, on my way to Mexico City. I hadn’t bothered to douse that fire, so I imagine that whole fucking house is burned to the ground by now.
A.B. Rosen has been writing and telling stories since she learned to speak. By day, she works in the development world trying to make herself useful. In her free time, Ms. Rosen enjoys reading, yoga, and writing poetry as well as laboring over whatever her current novel. Ms. Rosen feels honored to be a part of the Omnia Vanitas circle, and looks forward to working on more pieces for future publications.