A Bridesmaid Wants to Talk

Heather couldn’t believe she was being pulled away from her party. But it had to be important, they were gathering all the brides maids… Maybe it was a new idea for the bouquet toss… That had to be done soon...

Entering the room she found Sandra looking incredibly agitated with Claire and Paula flanking her trying to calm her down.

“What's up?” Heather asked feeling mystified as to the potential source of the meltdown Sandra was obviously having.

“Everything is wrong!” Sandra shouted flailing her arms up, her cell phone clenched in one.

“Not cool. This is our friend's wedding.” Claire quickly cut in.

“But it is! You all are just not listening! Here Heather, LOOK at this!” Sandra rushed forward holding her phone out, her other hand pointing at the picture. “THAT'S the dress you picked. You wanted a traditional wedding, you worried about a lower cut because you have small breasts! You wanted the ball gown to give you an excuse not the hug every person at the wedding! You HATE PDA but half your guests are making like horny teens!”

“SHUT UP SANDRA.” Paula commanded bringing silence to the panicked rant. “You want to be heard out, let her have a minute.”

Heather looked at the image and frowned slightly. It felt familiar, looked familiar. Looking up and wiping a tear from her eye she gazed at her reflection. She liked how she looked, she enjoyed every seductive curve flaunted by the dress.

Glancing back to the phone she shook her head. “No.”

Everyone looked at Heather perplexed by the word and the resounding weight it was uttered to the room.

"LISTEN! I DIDN'T EVEN REALIZE THIS UNTIL I SAW THE PICTURES ON THE PHONE! THEN I REMEMBERED THIS, US, THE PLANS!" Sandra cried out in a panic, she couldn't explain anything. It was like some alternate reality from a movie or tv show.

“No. We aren't doing this. YOU are not ruining MY night. Leave if you want, but we're all happy here. And enjoying ourselves.” Heather's body surged with sudden desires, her mind entertaining dark whispered thoughts, the whispers getting louder, and clearer with her affirmation of the Idol's enhancement of her night.

“Listen to me, puh-lease. Something isn't right. Your own parents look like they're in their thirties. No one looks over 35 down there anymore.” Sandra pleaded with increasingly **** rantings, reaching out to Heather who had already turned her back and started to walk towards the door.

“Sandra, I think…”

“SHUT UP.” Paula gestured apologetically to Claire for shouting over her. “We can talk about this tomorrow. If you don't want to come back to the party go to bed. Don't want to leave the reception alone? Go home. But if you don't stop, I WILL call security. Claire take Heather. I'll deal with this.”

As Claire escorted Heather from the room Sandra's voice cried out ominously with desperation, “YOU AREN'T LISTENING!”