The Girl in Wedding Dress and Sneakers

People are bewildered as they look at me— a passenger boarding this train with my wedding gown and white sneakers. Random hair strands escape my updo caused by what happened with my scheme being the runaway bride. Well, my hair still looks decent, though.

Some fail to be discreet and whisper their murmurs a bit louder. Can't blame them, it's not every day you see a bride wading through a crowd and boarding a train off to who-knows-where. Well, I might look weird with my choice of outfit for today, but I get lucky someone has given up his seat for me, nearest to the door. Obviously, he takes pity on me struggling to stand with my heavy attire. The trip will take hours and thanks to him my arms and legs will not strain to keep my balance the entire ride.

The train is pretty much crowded but as I seat comfortably, I roam my eyes to some passengers on the train. Across me is a black woman cradling her babe, and humming ever so softly to lull it to sleep. The baby's stout fingers cling at her index finger; they both look adorable.

One man near me is standing and holding by the handrail. He has swollen eyes and bruised lips. I wonder if he was engaged in a gang war before getting here. Those cuts and bruises look like they hurt pretty bad.

An awkward redhead, standing adjacent to the black woman has cute freckles on his pale face. He has this black scarf tied around his neck. And he has always been looking down, never making any eye contact with anybody, and aiming to be a wallflower. Well, his stance and garb don't really stand out, as opposed to me who is wearing a blinding white wedding dress with sequins and authentic gems that will really catch anyone's eye even from a distance.

While I am busy eyeing my fellow passengers, an old, wrinkly woman beside me boldly asks, "Darling, what an odd outfit you're wearing. I’m surprised it fit through the train's door. What made you board this train? Did you run away from your wedding?"

"Yes, ma'am,” is my truthful rejoinder. Well, I just can't say that I just picked this gown worth thousands of dollars to catch people's attention. I have no plans to make an ostentatious display of my family's wealth. I did not bring a change of clothes, but glad they are discreet enough not to take pictures of me.

"Why? What is your groom like?"

"He's the son of a business tycoon. Their family has the riches. And he is also gifted with great genes since he's so handsome. A millionaire. He likes to flaunt his wealth by showering me precious gems and stones, jewelry, paintings, and other things that can make other women fall into a swoon."

"His status and appearance sound like a prince charming to me. If he is like that, why did you run away?"

"Because beneath those superficial characteristics, there’s a monster hiding. He's prideful. He has some anger management issues, he's a manipulative prick. I am betrothed to him. The marriage is arranged by our parents. That is their diplomatic way to settle their conflicting business interests.”

"Well, I guess there's always more to it than the face, and it applies to any generation. Who wants a tasty-looking apple with rotten insides, anyway?” 

Being the most prized possession of my family, I was betrothed to my fiancé to combine the two largest empires. My parents chose my future for me, a future which disgusted me. So, I devised a plan. I did not really run. I mean, that was originally what I planned but it was all fucked up. I did not know my husband had prepared his own countermeasures, just to see to it that everything was going according to the agreement of both parties.

I had my earpiece disguised as expensive jewelry surrounding my ear. I also went on with the traditional garment—a veil—to conceal my beautiful earpiece. As for my sneakers, I didn't plan on tripping over high heels while I do my escape. Besides, I loved it, and not that the guests could see it under the vast cover of my gown. My informant would communicate with me through the earpiece. He would send signals and updates when everything's all set for my escape.

If I could just not attend the wedding and runoff, that would be easy. But the thing was, from the hotel I was staying in to my trip to the church, some men were following me. Making sure I didn't run away until we exchange our vows. A convoy followed my bridal car up to the church. That's how paranoid my groom's family was.

Staying few more hours inside the train, talking with the old lady, I figure out the snippets of the story of how some of my fellow passengers end up here. The black woman died of childbirth, and the baby also didn’t make it because of its congenital heart disease.

The male teenager with a freckled face was strangled by his stepfather when one fateful night he came home drunk and the young boy was the thing he saw fit to pour out his rage on. With not enough strength to escape the cruel hands of his attacker, the poor victim could only pray in his last moments. The marks of violence were still around his neck hence the scarf.

Luck wasn’t on his side when he gambled all his possessions and still lost to the boss of a syndicate. Losses after losses, the man holding in the handrail had nothing left to gamble. Worse, he had incurred a huge amount of debt that he wasn’t able to pay all of it when the deadline came, so the men ganged up on him. They punched him, kicked him and they did other despicable things that led to his horrible demise.

“How about you, ma'am? Why are you here?” I ask the old lady.

“Oh, my story’s nothing extraordinary. I’m just here because I decided it’s already time to visit my late husband. You see, he boarded this train five years ago. Cancer took him away from me. I’m already 80, old and lonely. My body’s already giving up because of loneliness so when I was rushed to the hospital due to difficulty of breathing and extreme chest pain, I know it’s already time to reunite with my darling. Oh, enough of me, why don’t you tell me how did you get that bullet in your temple? Pity because the dried blood already matted your intricately, adorned hair.”

I flash her a weak smile that does not reach my eyes as I began to tell my tragic tale.

I plotted my escape and the perfect execution of it was after the wedding—after we’d ride our car for our honeymoon. Well, everything went in a blur, the wedding’s over, we’re already on our way to our destination when my accomplice already told me that they were about to stop the car and hold me hostage. Yes, I staged a kidnap scheme for my escape. Since my groom just wanted to make sure we get married, their convoy already left us alone on our journey. So, it was perfect timing to execute the plan. One black van intentionally blocked our car and another one trapped us from behind. The driver of our wedding car swerved to the right and had no choice but to pull over. My men in black suits with high caliber rifles strapped on their broad shoulders went out of the van to try to take me away but my husband was quick. He pulled a gun from a hidden compartment of the car and held me so tight. I didn’t know if he already found out what was the men's plan, but he pointed the gun in my temple and enclosed me in his muscled arms.

My men were alarmed and pointed the gun at him and the driver. But those muzzles and loaded magazines didn’t seem to faze my husband.

“Surrender the girl and no one gets hurt,” one of my men ordered. If that resulted in anything, it only enraged my husband more.

“You cannot have her!” he pointed the gun at no one in particular and then its muzzle settled on my temple. He was so hostile.

To spice things up, I screamed, feigning extreme fright and hysteria. Sometimes, I do love to add some drama here and there, but I couldn't deny my racing heartbeats right now.

“I will not repeat myself. Release the girl or there will be bloodshed today!”

Two of my men went to opposite doors with my husband held at gunpoint. They forced the door open and I assumed that everything was going to be fine but then, hell was I wrong. Terribly wrong. The time came when I never thought my plan would fuck up. That was the moment when my husband pulled the trigger, but not towards my men. But to me.

My plan was just to scare him and be kidnapped by my men, but it backfired on me. He blew my brains out. And the next thing I knew, I was already escorted by Death with his infamous scythe towards this train. 

The problem with us people was that when we make decisions, we’re aware of the consequences but still do it. Because even though we knew the consequences, we could not see its impact unless it was already before our eyes. And before we could contemplate about how we fuck up, how wrong our choice was, it was already too late. Our should-haves and what-ifs would be nothing but wishful thinking. And initially, the poisonous bites of regret would plague our system and then in a very short period, relief would take over. Relief that everything was over. That I was finally free, even though it's not the way I wanted.

I am snapped out of my reverie when a uniformed man approached me. He’s wearing buttoned-down, dark blue long sleeves. His trousers match the color of his top and he even dons a black cap to finalize the getup. But even if he isn’t wearing his jet-black cloak today, and his infamous scythe has morphed into a ticket punch, I will still know that aura and who he is.

"Enjoying the trip, missy?" Death asks with his gravelly voice.

"Yes, it is my first time to board this train," I answer honestly.

"And apparently your last. Well then, you can use a couple more hours to relax before you get to your destination.” He tips his hat and proceeds to the other passengers.

I marvel at the horizon with hues of dark purple and orange, glorifying the sunset. A flock of migratory birds flies over the great expanse dotted with trees and wild bushes. I press my palm on the glass window, imagining the bare touch of some fresh air from the outside. The train makes its occasional whistle sounds and it really calms my nerves. I smile and take in all the beautiful views of nature before my eyes as I prepare myself for whatever awaits me at the end of this journey.