Bronwen

Bronwen was a name that, in itself, means great beauty. But, Bronwen herself was almost unbearable to look at. Her face was swollen like that of a hundred bee stings and her back was arched up like that of a camel's making her appear shorter than she already was. As everyone one knows how the saying goes, "don't judge a book by its cover". Well, it could be easily underestimated in this instance, for Bronwen was as cruel as she was ugly. David recalled a time when they were children and he'd caught Bronwen placing glue on their instructor's desk chair. He was beaten up after class for telling.

So how is it that poor David came face to face with Bronwen, of all people, on such an important day as this? A damn promise. One that even he had no choice in. David gawked at the girl in front of him, knots forming in his stomach. There was no way that he could go through with this. He wished he could cover her face back up; the one with the plastered smirk that showed her crooked, butter-colored teeth. Even though the veil barely shielded her before, it at least held some barrier between them. Light brown tangles crept out from her greased, slicked hair, and from her body arose a putrid aroma that could put even death to shame. He took her rough, dirt encrusted hands in his. She could have at least cleaned up for the ceremony. The pastor's long, droll words became a muted lull in the back of his mind and he let his eyes wander out into the crowd. That's when he spotted her. Claudiah. The sun glinted off her golden-toned hair and her crystal blue eyes shone bright with tears. Claudiah's eyes furrowed as they met each other's gaze, and he knew that he must have given off a depleted expression for the attendants began to let out a low murmur among themselves.

It should have been his older brother up here, face to face with this troll-like girl. But, his brother was no fool. He had denounced his title and took off to study abroad. David should have followed suit. But, now here he stood, on an altar, in front of a congregation of witnesses, vowing his life to someone he truly despised. And, he knew Bronwen was enjoying his displeasure thoroughly. Bronwen then spoke with her wicked tongue. The words, which acted as razors to David's ears, were to bind them together...forever. Her breath was hot against David's face and he crinkled his nose at the awful smell that lingered behind. Now, that Bronwen's voice had echoed throughout the halls that David realize was sort of situation he was in. As all attention turned on him, it was all he could do to choke everything back and spurt out the words that felt to be his death sentence. This was serious and he knew that he couldn't live with himself.

Here it came. As she leaned in, her dry, cracked lips puckered, David froze. But, only for an instant. The panic that had lain dormant for so long had now began to swell up, causing him to jolt backwards and Bronwen to come crashing forward, face planting into the old ratty brown carpet, her skirts flying over her head. And David couldn't take anymore. A disgusting taste had formed inside of his mouth and it was no short time before he erupted, liquid projecting everywhere. And, by everywhere? Well...that is an understatement as well.