This was it.

Bloberta was finally doing it, finally walking down the isle, she was wearing a beautiful, long, poofy, princess-esque wedding dress, and it was all picture perfect. It was all meant to be..perfect.

But, it wasn't. She felt empty and depressed, she felt sick as Clay's nervous smile dropped from his face and he had to take a drink of whiskey from his flask before ''kissing the bride''.

Bloberta felt unwanted, and she knew that her husband didn't live her, that she was making a grave mistake by marrying him.

Bloberta was wearing her hair down, it just about hit her chin. Her hazel locks were combed to perfection, not a singular hair untidy or out of place. Her wedding dress was ivory, covered in intricate lace and laces detailings.

The bottom was poofy, she was sweating under the endless layers underneath the skirt, keeping it up. Her white pumps were rubbing against her ankles, they were a size too small.

Bloberta's white, sheer veil was pushed out of her face, it was beautiful. She felt beautiful. She looked at her husband, Clay, who was in a black suit, a white collared shirt underneath and a black tie.

His brown hair was combed meticulously, except for a singular hair that fell infront of his face. He adorned a weak smile for a little bit, but he couldn't keep the façade up for long, he looked miserable.

Clay had already started drinking; he had a flask of ice-cold whiskey in his left hand. Bloberta kept trying to hold her husband's hand, but Cosy was being stubborn.

Atleast by getting married, she could get away from her family and her siblings, finally feel as if she had a purpose in life by serving her husband, doing something "helpful".

Even if she didn't love him, even if she felt no care for him whatsoever, she was serving her purpose in life. Bloberta took a deep breath, clinging onto Clay's arm, entirely for show.

Bloberta kissed his cheek, and watched him try not to recoil at the romantic gesture. She was adorning a fair smile. "Oh, Clay.." she cooed. "Isn't this perfect?"