The Crimson Wedding Dress

I have three greatest fears. The first one is a fear of the dark. I sleep every night with a blue night light because when I'm in the dark I shake violently and I can't hold myself back from crying. The second one is a fear of loneliness. I guess you could call it fear of abandonment, at least that's what my therapist calls it. There just tends to be an issue with me and getting attached with people. It's why I have very few friends. The third fear is sitting in a car, in the middle of a storm, outside a gas station, waiting for someone to come buy a dress from my parents. Which is exactly the situation I'm in right now.

"Why type of car did he say he had?" My Mom asks my Dad.

"A Burgundy Chevy Silverado," He replies tiredly. I look down at the green digital clock in the center of our car with a stressful gaze. 9:28, it unfortunately reads. Slowly I rest my head on the window sitting to my right. My eyes dart around looking at the details of the gas station through the thousands of water droplets staining my window giving it a fish eye effect. Triumph Gas a sign spells out in bold red letters. The bright LED lights buzz through the crashing thunder and the tiny pitter patters of rain on the roof of the car. Chills shoot through my spine as I watch lighting strike a tree in the distance leaving a flash of bright orange in the pits of my memory.

"Can't we just go home, I'm scared." I desperately ask my parents to no avail.

"We're scared too Micah, but we need the money." My Mom tries to calm me down but it doesn't work. Thank God for the lights at the gas station, otherwise I'd be bawling. 9:29, time seems to be moving slowly. I go back to observing the gas station. The ground is littered with stains from oil or other liquids. I imagine in my head what sort of clumsy shenanigans caused someone to spill so much oil.

"Strange, for someone who insisted on meeting earlier than 9:30, he hasn't showed up yet." My Dad chuckles.

My eyes go back to the dark silhouette of the tree that was recently struck by lightning. It's branches in the distance looks like someone with arthritis sticking their hand in the air. Flashbacks of my great grandma pinching my cheeks with her extremely mangled fingers make me feel sick to my stomach and I am tempted to open the door and throw up.

Maybe after this we can go get ice cream and forget what happened. That would be nice. I think to myself. A nice vanilla cone with warm chocolate syrup. I open my mouth to pitch the idea to my parents but the glow of headlights down the road make me shut up. 9:30

"Is that him?" My Mom questions my Dad

"Burgundy Silverado… It sure is. 9:30 exact" He chuckles nervously. I know he's nervous because he chuckles exactly three times. This does not help any to calm me and I feel my knee start to shake.

The large burgundy truck slowly pulls up approximately 20 feet away from us. There are about 6 stains between us. I know because I count when I'm nervous.

"Micah's right Dave, we should just go," My Mom pleads.

"This'll tie us over for the rest of the month. Everything is going to be okay." He attempts to calm her down by placing his hand on her cheek and wiping away a single tear that resembles the raindrops that are on my window. I guess it works because they both get out of the car, almost synchronized. Vanilla ice cream, chocolate syrup, and if you're good and don't panic maybe a cherry on top. I calm myself down a little bit by thinking this. Dad walks over to my side of the car while watching the man get out of his car and wave. Why does a man so old need a wedding dress, maybe for his daughter? Mom walks over to my Dad and whispers something in his ear then he opens my door.

"Hey bud, you wanna hand the dress over?" My Dad says through a fake smile. He always does this fake smile when talking to me, I know how much stress he actually deals with, too much to be smiling everyday. Carefully I pick up the plastic bag the dress is in. When I look back at them I see that he is handing his phone to me.

"Just in case bud"

We trade, dress for phone. My Mom smiles at me… adults fake smile too much.

"I love you Micah," She says. I smile back at her. They close the door. I'm alone with the pitter patter. 9:32 they said it'd only take 30 seconds. The ice cream store is probably closed right now, gonna have to settle with McDonalds.

My fingers quickly type 9-1-1 into the phone and my thumb shakily hovers over "Dial." I can hear my heart beat louder and faster as my parents approach the man. My knee is like a pogo stick now and I'm pretty sure it's shaking the car. Observation of the man's face is impossible because looking at him for some reason scares me. So instead I set my eyes on my Mom and Dad holding hands behind the dress. But then my eyes quickly set to the silver revolver pointed at my Dad's chest. My ears echo the sound of the gunshot over and over again, quickly followed by the scream of my mother. I watch in horror as my mother pleads for her life while covered in her husband's blood. The Dress by now has fallen out of it's bag and lays on top of my Dad's corpse. My Mom looks over to me and mouths, "I love you."

"9-1-1 what's your emergency?"

"I… my… wedding dress! HELP!"

My whole body starts to shake, all the sounds from the storm seem to swell, I can feel my eyes start to sting from producing tears.

The man walks over to my window after ending my mother's life. Finally, it's my turn.

"We're tracking your call and police are on their way"

The barrel of the gun points directly at my face. The light from the gas station reflects of the wet car and reveals the face of the man.

"Stay on the line for as long as you can… what's your name?"

"Micah, although I'm not sure that matters anymore" The phone drops from my hand, Is this it?

His eyes are particularly strange. One of them is green the other is blue. He has a handlebar moustache that's not so neatly groomed.

"Micah, just breathe okay, everything is going to be ok-"

The last thing I heard was a gunshot ripping through the glass, everything went dark after that.