DEATH'S OWN

Nyx's gaze was haunted, her eyes clouded with a mix of fear, uncertainty, and a hint of desperation. She felt like a pawn in a game she didn't want to play, a game where her freedom and happiness were the stakes. The wedding dress, once a symbol of joy and love, now felt like a suffocating shroud, weighing her down with every passing moment. She thought of the man waiting for her, the one her parents had chosen for her, and a shiver ran down her spine. She didn't love him, didn't even know him, and yet, she was expected to spend the rest of her life with him.

Nyx's expression was blank, and her beautiful blue eyes lacked their usual sparkle. The hairstylist had done a great job, but Nyx didn't notice. She felt empty and scared, like a doll dressed up for the wedding. The hairstylist's compliments didn't register with Nyx, who was lost in her own thoughts.

Nyx forced a weak smile, trying to appease the stylist and makeup artist, but it felt like a mask slipping over her face. She couldn't share their enthusiasm, couldn't pretend that everything was perfect when it felt so far from it. The stylist and makeup artist, oblivious to Nyx's true feelings, continued to chat and giggle, their excitement only adding to Nyx's growing sense of unease. "You're going to make a beautiful bride," the makeup artist said, her eyes shining with genuine delight. Nyx's heart sank, the words feeling like a trap closing in around her.

Nyx wished a natural disaster would stop the wedding. She didn't want to marry this man, and would even prefer him to die like her previous suitors. But she had to do this for her mother. Nyx felt like a sacrifice, and the thought sent a shiver down her spine.

"You should smile more, Ma'am, I have seen you smile before and it is as bright as the sun, it suits you and brings out your charm," The makeup artist told Nyx to smile more, saying it suits her. Nyx tried to smile, but it was fake. The makeup artist and stylist didn't seem to notice her unhappiness.

Nyx had opposed the marriage from the start, but her mother was determined and her father wanted her out of the house. She felt like a burden to them, and her protests were ignored. Nyx felt like she was being forced into a life that would stifle her.

"Can I see it? Your smile, I have never had the opportunity to see it before," the hairstylist inquired.

Nyx stared at her reflection, her eyes dull and lifeless. She felt trapped and wanted to escape, but her husband's family was everywhere, watching her. She longed to break free but saw no way out.

"What a shame, I thought I would get to see the famous smile of sunshine that many talk about," the stylist sighed but wore a smile of her own. "You look lovely nonetheless," she said with a little hand clap.

A knock on the door followed by the creaking sound of it being opened drew the attention of the two women standing beside her.

"Everyone has gathered, they await the bride's presence," a young woman who was dressed in a peach-coloured knee-length, body-hugging dress said as she walked through the door. "Nyx," she walked to the said woman who refused to pay her attention, she did not even look at her. "I know you are still mad at me, we can talk after this is over okay," she placed a hand on her shoulder but it was pushed away.

She dropped her hand to her side and stared at the floor for a moment before raising her head to look at Nyx, "I am still very sorry," she said and walked to the door and then stopped. "Your mother, she wants to speak with you before you go, I will stall for as long as possible."

"Beth," Nyx called, speaking for the first time since last night when she was brought into the mansion that she should call her new home. It was ironic, the wedding will be held here and she will live here from here on. Her husband was wealthy and an ideal man for all single ladies out there but all she wanted was to get away from it all. "I am not mad at you, I am just disappointed that you would do that to me," Nyx uttered and stood up. "Where is my mother? Take me to her."

Silently, with sunken shoulders, Beth led the way to another room where a woman in a wheelchair could be seen ready to be wheeled out by a nurse. Nyx stood by the entrance staring at her mother whose eyes had also found hers.

"Mother," Nyx called. She was hurt and angry that her mother had forced her to marry a man she did not love but she could not find it in herself to hate the woman. She had gone through too much for her sake. Nyx can still remember how lively and beautiful the woman used to be, but now, she was just a shell of her former self. Life was quickly leaving her and people believed she was the cause of it and that included her father.

"Come here, my child, let me touch you before you go," the woman reached out her hand which had Nyx walking forward to hold. "I want to be left alone with my daughter," she requested and the nurse nodded her head, waiting at the door were Beth and the two stylists who for some unknown reasons did not want to leave.

"You heard her, leave us alone," Nyx emphasized every word. They exchanged glances with each other before leaving after a silent agreement. "What is it, Mother?"

The woman wore a smile, a sad smile as she gazed upon her daughter's eyes and held her hands, she squeezed them gently trying to convey her emotions through them, albeit knowing she would have to use her words.

"I am sorry I had to ask you to do this, Nyx. I want to make sure you will be well taken care of when I am no more. Mr Mogan is not a bad man and he cares for you. Your father is not a bad man either, it is just…." she trailed off, not sure of how to put her words.

"He is wary of me. Afraid of me and blames me for your health," Nyx completed the unspoken words of her mother. "You didn't need to tell me, I know very well what he thinks of me. What many think of me."

"Nyx…."

"I am fine, Mother, save your strength, there is still time for another conversation." Nyx stood up. The conversation didn't make her feel any better at all, rather it made her feel worse than she already was.

"That is the problem. Time, I feel like I am living on a borrowed life, you know that. Your gift, it allows you to…" She didn't need to complete her words for Nyx to understand what she meant and she was right.