[STORY] My Piece of Heaven - 18
Full Story(Original Document) - My Piece of Heaven
The loud banging on the wooden door of her chambers stirred an awakening within Launa. The frighteningly consistent thumping on the planks were a consistent reminder of her duties as a now 18 year old heiress of her family’s wealthy estate. With a sudden swing of the doors came the tumultuous flooding of light from the outdoors, overpowering all but Launa’s sense of sound.
“Young lady! -- You are going to be late for your wedding ceremony!” Hollered Madam Teresa. Launa’s only response to the sudden bombardment was to stare up at the daunting figure, whose appearance always seemed to block any sense of joy that ever attempted to appear in her life; many times Launa questioned if that was her only purpose as a Madam.
“Alonso will be late too..” Launa crooned out; still admiring the comfort of her bed.
“A woman ought to respect the position she has in this world, now stand.” With her final attempt at verbally coaxing the girl from her slumber falling on deaf ears, Teresa used her sheer physical size advantage to swoop the girl into a standing position.
“I hate you.” whispered Launa, as she settled into her now upright position in the world.
“Still just as foolish as a child.” Teresa exclaimed as she began her daily task of herding the young sheep throughout the castle.
The day quickly became overrun by a seemingly endless stream of maidens flowing into the lavish family estate. The doors to the private chamber would often swing open and an influx of designers or planners would file in and make use of the young girl’s existence.
“How about curls? They are seen as beautiful and modest!” came one older woman, whose wildly excited demeanor frightened Launa.
“Straight hair would be much more elegant and fitting for such an event!” proposed another, as the competing ideas brunt down on the waiting bride.
“How about something with my hair up?” Pondered Launa, whose idea was quickly met with disapproval from Madam Teresa who had been supervising the process. Launa’s only response was to tilt her head towards the chamber doors, as the maidens quickly swept into action.
As the hours passed, and the day began to set, an audience had formed at the Fiorina Estate which has ceremoniously accepted the role of host to the formal wedding. In the crowd sat members from both the Fiorina and Fonte families, as well as members from the Kryizon royal court. At the front-center of the large banquet room, surrounded by obscenely tall decorated glass, stood a now 32 year old Alonso. His once youthful boyish skin had succumbed to leather, and the pink in his lips had reddened through time.
The doors to the banquet hall swung open as the first imagery of the bride came to light; her jewel-embedded gown completely covered her slim body as it clutched onto the floor with every bodily movement. Her delicately pale skin glistened in the sunlight beaming throughout the hall’s lined windows. As she lifted her head and witnessed the audience, her eyes, which had been elegantly framed by her slickened straight hair, locked onto her parents, who had been seated in the first row. Each step down the aisle, pre-planned by Madam Teresa, brought a swoop of her gown and a gasp of excitement from the crowd, aside from the young girl’s parents in the front, who reacted as if they lacked all five senses.
When Launa made her way to the front rows of the banquet hall, her hand met with her father’s as he looked into her eyes and expressed his gratitude. Her mother reached out as well, but failed to make contact as Launa faded from existing within her reach.
“Do you, Alonso of the Fonte family take Launa to be your wife, and under the guidance of our Goddess Florina pledge to devote your life to her.” --
“I do,” Alonso said, confidently grasping the resting hand of Launa before him.
When it was her time to speak, Launa hesitated and with a quick look outside the glaring windows of the banquet halls, she could see the stars in the sky, and the light from the moon which highlighted that familiar figure in the distance.
“Yes, I will.”