A ghostly reflection of a stranger of a girl she once knew gazed back at her. The silver moon was swollen and hanging dead center in the velvet, night sky. Her arms dangled over the rusted, metal rail of the isolated bridge. Tonight was supposed to be a jovial occasion but it had evolved into a horrendous tempest of heartache and tears.
She had always thought her parents were open-minded, accepting people but her false belief had been eternally shattered. She was in love with him; truly, deeply, head over heels in love; the kind of love that lasted a lifetime. So then, why did it matter to them if he was white?
A silent tear escaped her dark chocolate eyes and made a splash into the inky darkness of the rippling water below. Everything was an enormous mess; a spider-web that she couldn't become untangled from. She remembered the earlier events as they continuously replayed in her mind.
They all were sitting down at diner; Mom, Dad, herself and him. They waited until Mom was clearing the dishes to make their announcement. Together they arose, hand in hand, her caramel skin weaved into his peaches and cream complexion, her face a mirror of the blissful grin painted on his lips.
"Mom. Dad. Lance and I are getting married."
The entire room was eerily still; each parent's face drawn into a blank mask.
Suddenly, the plate Mom was holding slipped out of her fingers and slammed onto the tile floor.
The sound of shattering china suddenly could be heard. The noise seemed to awaken her frozen parents, their reactions igniting like a spreading crack in a plate of glass.
"WHAT DID YOU SAY?" That was from her mother. She was the one who always yelled.
"YOU HAVE GOT TO BE JOKING, IF YOU INSIST ON MARRYING THAT WHITE TRASH!"
Another bullet from her mother.
"Over my dead body! He's going to use you and you're going to become just another useless whore on the street!"
That bullet came courtesy from her father, to add to the rapid fire. The bullet that finally wounded her past the outside.
She had tried to make the understand; comprehend the fact that being colorblind was actually a valuable trait, because isn't it true that when we turn out the lights we're all the same color?
But they were too blinded by their passionate hate and their disgust to hear a single word she had said. The room had been consumed with their wrath and too much for her to handle.
In five minutes, her parents, who she had known all her life, transformed into a set of strangers.
Tears streaming down her anguish-filled face, she ran out of the room, out of the house, out of the neighborhood and out of her parent's lives. She had ran to the bridge, every bone, joint and muscle aching with an invisible pain that seeped like tree sap into her soul.
The pain, she knew, wasn't physical.
At twenty-one, she suddenly felt much older than she was really was; like a young queen who had been subjected to years of war, death and trauma. She kept her eyes on the water, clenching the rail so tightly, her knuckles turned white.
There was no accurate way to describe how she was feeling.
Betrayal was definitely one feeling; she had been betrayed into thinking the lie that her parents weren't racist.
Loss was another. She had lost the bond between herself and her parents, which she could never replace.
Sorrow could be added to the growing list........................
A thought suddenly startled her, attacking her mind like a neon color catches the eye.
What if she jumped?
What if she climbed over the railing and plunged into the icy waters below?
The distance between the height of the bridge and the water below, accompanied by jagged rocks, certainly provided the guarantee that death would be the final result. She slipped each high-heeled foot into the space.
Could she find enough courage to swing a leg over?
The water tantalized her, beckoned her of a sweet reward.
If only, she jumped.
Jump. Jump and all your problems will be gone.......
She carefully removed each foot and stepped back and away from the railing.
She couldn't do it.
She didn't want to die.
She didn't want to let her parents win this fight.
The crisp chill of the night air kissed her cheeks and bare arms; a sleeveless, floor length, crimson dress didn't exactly keep you warm when contemplating the truism of life.
Where was Lance, anyway? Maybe he had hitched a plane back to Florida; away from New York and far away from an idiot of a girl he thought he loved.
She let out a small, bitter laugh.
So this is what it felt like to have your world disappear; to have the light on your sole candle go out.
She turned around to head to the pay phone, down the road, to call for a taxi when the sound of a familiar voice, like a lullaby to a baby, cut through the air.
Her eyes lit up.
It was him; her knight in shining armor. Or in this case, pop star in a pair of charcoal colored, Calvin Klein dress pants and light blue, Gucci dress shirt.
He sprinted up to her and scooped her into his arms; all without a word. Her arms latched around his neck, his around her waist; both clinging onto each other like an anchor. She hadn't stopped crying and now that he held her, she began to sob.
He pulled back, his pensive eyes giving her a piercing gaze.
"Shanice, why are you crying?" he demanded, softly. She sniffled, looking down.
"I HATE them! I hate my parents," she hissed, her voice filled with enough acid to burn through metal. He shook his head, kissed away the remaining tears and reassured:
"No. You don't. You could never hate anyone. They only want what's best for you."
"What's best for me? How could not being with you be what's fucking BEST for me!" she shrieked, staring up at him. He shook his head, his expression saddened.
Whether it was by her reaction or her parent's earlier display, she didn't know.
"Look, I don't agree with them either. But even though they don't respect our decision, it doesn't matter. We're getting married whether they come to the wedding or not. And frankly, it wouldn't matter to me if all of the guest came or one, because either way, I get to spend the rest of my life with you. Don't you see; I don't give a shit if your parents hate me. And I wouldn't care if the entire world put me into banished me into exile. As long as I have you, then everything's fine. All I care about is you," he sincerely confessed.
She smiled. He always knew how to lift her spirits; bring in the sun after the rain. She kissed him, a kiss of truth, beauty, freedom and most importantly, love. He pulled away, running his hand slowly down the side of her tearstained face.
"I love you," he whispered.
"I love you, too," she replied. He kissed her deeply; so deeply, she almost forgot about reality.
That is, almost.
"Are you ok?" he asked, concerned. She shrugged, falling into his embrace, her head resting on his chest. Together Shanice's heart and Lance's heart beat in time with one another, together they inhaled and exhaled and together they would stay.
"No...........but I will be."