The Mannequin in the Veil

You know that one story that’s whispered behind closed doors, that you’ve heard more than once, that plagues a small town enough to become it’s reputation? Well, in my town, I was the story. I was the one who disappeared. People talked about me. People gossiped and laughed. How do I know this? Well, I watched it all happen. I watched myself go from the topic of all conversations to an unsettling feeling in the background, fading with time. I watched as I vanished from the world, my mark waning, until I was the urban legend the town passed down through generations. I watched the world age and wrinkle and die while I stayed eternally young.

I watched it all from the window. How did it happen, you might ask? What happened to me, the bride-to-be, which made me vanish like I was invisible?

It all started two months before my big day.

Two months. My wedding was in two months and I could hardly contain my excitement. In two months I’d be Mrs Nina Orson, dropping my current last name, Ines. In two months, I’d be able to call Axel my husband, instead of my fiancée. In two months, I’d walk down the aisle in a magnificent, white wedding dress with thin spaghetti straps and a thick, layered A-line gown with white flowers sewn onto the waist that would creep around the back all the way down to the flawless hem. Well, I hoped. I hadn’t actually been able to find a dress that matched the image I had envisioned.  

‘How’s the dress search going?’ I quickly slammed my laptop shut as Axel gently nudged the door to my room open.

‘Hey, you can’t look!’ I chastised playfully, and Axel smiled, his olive cheeks dimpling behind a stubble on his face.

‘Okay, okay. Whatever you say, Mrs Orson.’

I grinned. ‘Not yet! But don’t worry –once I take your last name, it’ll be mine for life. Until we’re wrinkly and old.’

Axel rolled his deep hazel eyes. ‘I’ve told you, babe, I don’t wrinkle. My mum was fifty before she got her first wrinkle. But don’t worry, I’ll be with you until you’re wrinkly and old.’

I chewed my lip uneasily.

‘Well, anyway, I’m going to the wedding dress shop today. You know the new one, I forget what it’s called. By the park.’

‘Oh, Wedding Dream? That one?’

‘Yeah, I think so.’ I nodded.

‘Alright, let me know how it goes. Call me before you make any decisions, okay?’

I nodded again.

‘You got it.’

The bell jingled as I entered, a wave of cool air washing over me. The shop was small, with tall, standing mirrors leaning against the walls, white curtains lined with gold stitches draped across thick, frosted windows. Overhead, sparkling chandeliers dangled from chains from the ceiling, showing the the room in dim, cold light.

‘Welcome! How can I help you?’ A woman with dark eyes and a bright red lip greeted warmly as I entered.

‘Hi, I’m looking for a wedding dress,’ I said, my eyes catching on the gowns hung on racks along the walls. The store was empty except for the two of us.

‘Amazing! Well, you’ve come to the right place. I’ll make your beauty eternal.’ The woman noticed my uncomfortable smile and continued. ‘Trust me, you’ll be wanting to savour your youth with these dresses. Stay young for the lucky man. Anyway, do you have a style in mind?’ She gestured to the sections of dresses on display.

I bristled at the intrusion, speaking slowly. ‘Yeah, I’ve always thought about Botox for when I’m older. I wish we could stay young forever, if I’m honest. Or reverse-age.’ I cleared my throat. ‘I’m not entirely sure what style would look good on me, yet.’

The woman smiled, a polite yet diplomatic smile, a subtle undertone of awe. ‘That’s okay. Do you want to just try a few assorted styles on? Then we can narrow down the search later.’

‘Sure, yeah. Sounds good.’ I replied as the woman directed me towards one of the racks.

‘These are our bestsellers. All beautiful gowns, we have different sizes in the back if you like one of them.’

I flicked through the dresses, my stomach flipping with nerves. Each gown was sparkling-white untouched and untainted, waiting to be filled by a bride. Each was intricately designed, almost like they were personal, but none of them were mine.

‘No good?’ The woman asked, her eyes softening with concern. I shook my head downheartedly.

‘Not for me,’ I replied.

‘Well, would you like to look at the veils?’ She offered, gently guiding me away from the row of dresses.

‘Of course.’

The veils were held separately to the dresses. There were a few hanging on display, translucent sheens of white fabric, some with woven flowers on the ends, some dangling close to floor-length from the head-height display.

‘How about this one?’ The woman gently tugged at a short veil studded with tiny pearls, the ends woven with silky, white ribbon and tiny white flowers.

I felt my breath hitch in my throat. Yes, this was it. This was my veil. I could almost see it –pinned to my hair, draped halfway down my back, like my crown. It’d match perfectly with the dress I had pictured –the final touch to finish my picture-perfect fairytale dream wedding.

‘It’s beautiful,’ I breathed, gently running my hands through the silky material.

The woman beamed. ‘Wonderful! How about you try it on? I can help you put it in if you’d like.’

‘Yes, that’d be amazing, thank you,’ I said, my lips curling into a smile despite my conscious protests.

‘Alright! Let’s just head to the mirror so you can see what you look like.’ She carefully unhitched the veil and led me towards one of the full-body mirrors, shadows like spiderwebs crawling across her forehead.

‘Okay, just stand in front of the mirror, I’ll attach it to your hair.’ I watched in the reflection as the woman moved behind me, and I felt something –like tiny teeth –digging into my scalp. A piece of my hair pulled sharply and I supressed a wince.

‘All done! You look stunning!’ The woman said, stepping beside me, her cheeks stretched in an enthusiastic grin. ‘What do you think?’

I spun to the side, tipping my head back, pulling it up until it sat neatly at the nape of my neck, the pearls glistening in the cold light. I looked regal. I looked like a princess about to be handed off to a prince.

‘I think… I think it’s the one for me.’ I declared, twisting in front of the mirror, gawking at the veil’s beauty. Suddenly my hip cracked, a sharp but hollow sound, and I flinched, straightening up.

‘Oh, are you okay?’ The woman asked, gently touching my arm. My gaze flicked back to the mirror.

‘Yes, fine, thanks. And I’d like to buy the veil. How much is it?’ I stiffly lifted my arms and spread the veil wide over my shoulders, posing with my hands close to my chest, as if I was gripping a bouquet of flowers. A sheen of sweat glistened on my forehead –glossy, almost, like I had been dipped in resin.

‘Amazing! Let’s see,’ The woman walked back to the rack where the veil was originally hanging, drawing her hand across the dusty tag. I smeared the sweat across my forehead with the back of my hand, but somehow it felt sticky and my arms returned to my sides with jarring clicks from my joints.

‘Five-fifty. Are you okay with that? I can ring it up now if you’d like.’

I coughed, my throat feeling like it had fallen victim to a wild cat. ‘Sorry, yeah, that’d be gr—great, thanks,’ I stammered.

The woman’s eyes narrowed. ‘Are you alright?’

I bristled, embarrassment tinging my cheeks a glaring red. ‘Yeah… Yeah, fine. I just think I need some fresh air.’

I stiffly waddled towards the door, my limbs feeling like they were chafing in their sockets. The veil hung limply behind me, still spread over my shoulders. I reached for the door, my fingers feeling glued together, like a Lego character. Unease prickled my stomach.

‘You’re not looking so good, sweetie. Stay there, I’ll call an ambulance.’ I tried to swivel my head to look at her, but my neck clicked painfully, my muscles tense yet somehow weak.

‘I just –let me just call my fiancée,’ I stammered, my tongue feeling heavy and dry. I jiggled the doorhandle, digging my other hand into my pocket, and felt a sharp jab of panic rise into my chest. The door was locked. And my phone was gone.

‘Stay right there. It’ll all be okay. It’s too late for you to do anything about it now, anyway.’ The woman’s voice sounded far away, with a harsh edge I hadn’t heard before.

‘Are you… Are you calling the ambulance?’ I slurred, my words melting together like ice cubes on a hot summer’s day.

‘Yes, dear. They’re on their way. Just stay right there.’ I felt her hand on my shoulder, her nails sharp, like claws. Her voice had an incredulous infliction to it, almost a chuckle, like she was soothing a stressed child.

I felt my body waver. My limbs felt locked in place, a strangled gurgling escaping my throat. If I could only call Axel… He’d know what to do. But where was my phone?

‘I need… I need help…’ I whispered. I was a bride. My wedding was in two months. Why was this happening to me?

‘It’s okay. Just let it happen. You’ll be beautiful. Forever.’ The woman’s icy finger traced the curve of my back. My skin felt slick and flawless as she touched it. ‘You’ll never grow old, or wrinkly, or grumpy. You’ll be stunning forever –frozen in the best time of your life.’

I didn’t understand what she was saying. No, it was Axel who would never wrinkle. I’d be the old hag by his side. Everyone would assume I was his mother. I could feel mind slowing –slowly turning to jelly. I couldn’t move anymore. My limbs were locked in place, my eyelids frozen open, my eyes glazing, my pupils the only thing still moving.

‘See? Just let it happen. You’ll be remembered as a gorgeous bride-to-be, forever. And you’ll model inside my shop. Your dream veil. For a wedding that never happened.’

What was she talking about? My wedding was in two months. I felt my eyes brimming with tears. I felt my heart slowing until there was no beat at all. How was I still alive?

‘Beautiful,’ the woman whispered, her voice tinged with awe. She gently drew back the curtains in front of the frosted windows, and if I could have gasped, I would have.

I wasn’t me anymore. The milky reflection I was staring at was a mannequin –a perfectly lifelike mannequin, with pure, smooth skin that was the colour of the veil I was wearing. My clothes hung limply over my shoulders.

No. No. I couldn’t move. I wasn’t breathing but somehow I was still conscious. People wandered by outside, oblivious to what was happening to me. Cars drove by. Kids pushed in prams with tired parents leaned over the handlebars. My plastic eyes burned as I stared, but none of them so much as flitted a passing glance.

Suddenly, Axel walked by outside. He caught sight of me in the window, and I stared at him, willing him to realise it was me. He smiled and the bell jingled as he entered.

‘Hi! Welcome in! How can I help you?’ The same enthusiasm that had enticed me in. I heard the woman’s footsteps leave my side.

‘Hi, I’m looking for my fiancée? Her name’s Nina. She said she was coming here for a dress.’ Axel, the same gruff but caring voice I had fallen in love with. The same voice I was going to marry.

‘Oh, sorry, but we haven’t had anyone in all morning. Are you sure she said she was coming here?’ I felt my heart shatter, willing Axel to realise I was here. That I needed him.

‘Yeah, I think so. I don’t know. She hasn’t been responding to my texts.’ He paused, sighing heavyheartedly. ‘Thanks for your time.’

‘No worries. I hope you find her.’

I wanted to scream at him, to yell, I’m here!

But I couldn’t.

‘Thank you. Me too.’

And then he left.

Time warped the longer I was a mannequin. Cars passed, people entered, nights fell. Time passed. Axel visited occasionally, his voice strained with hopeful desperation, but his visits were sparce and grew further apart. Police visited but nothing ever became of it. I fell into the background. I watched myself disappear. And I watched the world move on.

The woman talked to me occasionally. She’d tell me I was beautiful, and I always would be. She’d tell me I’d outlive everyone. She’d tell me how lucky I was to be able to retain my beauty forever, even when everyone else was old and wrinkly. I wished I could tell her I didn’t want that.

 I hated her. With every microplastic of my being. I hated her. She had made me faceless –I still had all of my features, but it was like I had been dipped in a hard resin; my face was frozen, expressionless. Inhuman. I was just a thing.

A thing gathering dust in the corner. A thing never ageing, never so much as an impurity in my perfect, plastic skin.

Never a wrinkle, or a line where it shouldn’t have been, never bags under my plastic eyes, never puffy or loose skin.

It was what I had always wanted, but it had cost me my life.

I wasn’t the bride I had always dreamed of. I was the mannequin. The lifeless, perfect, beautiful, timeless mannequin.

The mannequin in the veil.