The Best Day of their Life - Original Writing

The Best Day of their Life - Original Writing

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The Best Day of their Life - Original Writing

The ground was set with fresh frost from the cool night before. Ice
covered the once lively pond, with only the lone duck perched on the
ice. Icicles hung from the church roof like the cold fingers of the
dead, pointing at the floor, and the final destination of all. The
headstones of all the patrons of the church lay scattered about the
graveyard, all of them in a bad state of disrepair. Some had been
vandalised, many had just fallen foul of time. Spray cans lay on the
floor in random locations, although many of them were congregated near
the crumbling stone walls of the church. The church itself was at
least four hundred years old and stood towering above the surrounding
houses, like a sleeping giant among the humans. Copper roofing which
had long turned green covered the majestic hall of the church, covered
in the leftovers of the birds that enjoyed their stay there. A crooked
weathervane hung from an old Christmas light, dangling just below the
window often church steeple. The steeple had only one room in it which
was just below the belfry. One cracked pane of glass allowed light to
enter the dusty room, with a small hole in the bottom of the window
allowing the gun barrel to poke out, armed with a scope through which
a man stared.

He had been there watching the churchyard, composing himself since the
early morning. The sun had risen from the east and had reached its
peak as the man lay in wait. Squirrels had been going about their
business all morning, foraging nuts from the surrounding trees and
hiding them in the ground. The feeling in his legs had disappeared
slowly and now they were completely numb, so he decided to check his
escape route one last time, making sure that it was completely clear;
nothing must prevent him from a clean break. Pre-job jitters began to
kick in; his hand shook as he once again placed it on the handle of

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the gun, gripping the cold metal firmly so that the shaking would
stop. He carefully took the 3 shining bullets from the rifles
protective case that lay on the ground and slid them into the chamber
through a gap on top of the gun. He put his eye to the scope of the
gun and took one last look around the churchyard, searching for any
possible witnesses; the time was approaching quickly now.

Watching through the scope of the gun, he saw the first white car
arrive, laden with white ribbon. Slowly the door opened onto the
tarmac of the path, and a man's foot stepped out, followed slowly by
the rest of his body. The man wore a dark coloured suit with a white
lily in the lapel, a white waistcoat also protruding from underneath
his jacket. The man was clearly the father of the bride; his hair was
speckled with silver and looked considerably older than the second man
who slowly emerged from the car. The second man had a red rose in his
lapel and wore a dark suit with a white waistcoat and shirt. As the
third man appeared from the other site of the car the guests began to
arrive, most of them walking and some wearing big hats. All of them
began to walk into the great doors of the church while the first car
left. The three men then proceeded into the church with the guests,
who all quickened their pace as a second white car approached the
front entrance of the church. The car drew to a halt as a door opened
on the car and a woman in a pale pink dress got out. After the first
woman stepped away from the car a second woman got out of the car. She
was obviously the bride as her dress was a dazzling white and dragged
behind her for a foot. A third woman appeared from the other side of
the car and picked up one side of the brides dress, as the other
bridesmaid picked up the other side. All three women then began to
proceed up the gravel pathway to the front doors of the church and
disappeared through the front doors.

Not long now thought the man, as he watched the stragglers make their
way towards the church. The service began with music from the church
organ, which meant that the man could relax for a while. He looked
around the dusty room in which he had been sitting in, and gazed
around the remnants of what may have been a storeroom. He then sat
down with his against the wall and closed his eyes. He sat like this
until her heard the bells below him begin to ring, and then he turned
and took hold of his weapon, clutching firmly the handle and the
trigger. He put his eye to the scope.

Slowly the guests emerged from the church; some of them were crying,
handkerchiefs in hand. Most of them were smiling, discussing how they
thought that the wedding had gone. They lined the steps of the church
and took handfuls of the confetti which was being passed around in a
wicker basket. Many people were still emerging from the church and the
man had begun to get impatient, he tapped his finger against the
trigger of the gun, tempting fate as he tapped it harder each time.
Finally he saw the best man emerge from the main body of the church
and walked down the steps past all the onlookers. He walked around the
crowd of people and stood with his back to the doors. He looked around
the churchyard then up to the steeple as he lit up a cigarette. He
continued to keep his back against the wall when the bride and the
groom appeared from the church and the confetti was thrown at them.
The bride and groom then stopped outside the church for the
photographs. This was the right time.

The man in the room aimed at the head of the groom, anticipating the
possible movement of the man, slowly he prepared himself for his swift
exit then he shot. The gun made hardly any noise as it was supposed to
have done, although the screams that ensued were louder than any gun.
He saw as everyone gathered round the bride in her red dress and the
body with a head that had once been a handsome face, now mutilated by
the large bullet.

Now he had to escape. He tore the gun off the stand and slid it into
its shiny protective casing. He unzipped his own black overalls and
took them off, revealing a black wedding suit underneath, one that was
very similar to that of the groom. He shoved the suit into another bag
that was attached to the gun casing, and did zip up. Lastly he took
the makeshift stand of the gun and threw it into a corner where the
wood shattered, eaten away by time. Quickly he threw the bag over his
shoulder and ran out of the room, closing the door behind him, locking
it and pushing the key underneath the door. Carefully He slid down a
ladder that led to the roof of the church and walked out onto the
roof. Attempting to avoid being seen by any of the guests he ran
across the green roof of the old church, avoiding any bird mess that
could show that there was someone here if he trod in it. As the
shadowy figure reached the ladder that would take him one step closer
to freedom, he heard the siren of an ambulance and a police car in the
distance, possibly coming to this gruesome scene. Sliding down the
rusty old ladder he glanced in the direction of the crowd of people,
none of whom seem to be looking in his direction. Towards an open
grave he ran, slowly sliding the bag from his shoulder and holding it
in front of him. He dumped it in the nearest open grave, hiding it
from view underneath the coffin; it would be buried soon. Running
towards the open gate at the back of the graveyard he took one last
look behind him and smiled. It was supposed to be the best day of
their life.
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