THE HUNGER IN YOUR HAUNT | Troy Otto

Matilda, alone

A wedding was not what Jeremiah Otto had in mind when he thought of the end of the world, but who was he to say no to love?

Malcolm Gardener was a stubborn man, even when he noticed a rain cloud in the sky, he swore to everyone in town that the wedding would remain scheduled for that evening. Once the first drop of rain hit the ground, the first drop of alcohol hit his tongue. He continued to swear for the rest of the evening, but these were a little different than before.  And as the downpour began, he promised whoever would listen that the ceremony would be beautiful, one that would allow everyone to forget about what roamed beyond the barriers.

The residents of Broke Jaw Ranch attended the ceremony, including the bride's daughter Delilah, a pale and skinny girl, who was much too tall for her age. Her curly, strawberry-blonde hair had been pulled back into a high ponytail. She'd worked all morning on it, making sure that every strand of hair had been in the right place. No doubt she was the maid of honor for her mother, standing proudly at the bride's side with her head held high.

The bride was also tall, maybe even taller than the groom. She was middle-aged with silvery blonde hair that had been wrapped tight in a sleek bun.  Crushed berries reddened her lips and her cheeks and coffee grounds darkened her lashes— it was the prettiest she'd felt in a long time. There were other women around her as well, friends, squawking about the beautiful centerpieces and lovely decorations. She thanked everyone endlessly for their efforts, before turning her attention toward her other bride's made.

In the back of the cottage room, a young woman stood small as she possibly could. Short and petite, she was easy to lose if someone was not watching her carefully enough. Had she not been spotted by the bride, she would have been out the door, but a gentle smile reeled the young back in, like a fish on a hook.

Matilda joined the women, unable to say a word before Delilah whisked her away to brush through the black mess on her head.

"Matilda, you really need to take better care of your hair..." she lectured, carefully combing through the knots on the back of her head. "If you want, you can borrow my hair care products—I brought some with me!"

Like an impatient child, Matilda crossed her arms—and even her legs. "No, thanks..." She replied through gritted teeth, cringing each time a knot had been torn through. "Are you almost done?"

Delilah merely sighed, dejected by, what she'd hoped would be, her new stepsister. "Just a little longer."

The older women filled the room with hoots and howls, easing the tension between bridesmaids. The loudest of all was the bride, who simply could not wait for the wedding to begin. As she stood up to show off the nicest white dress they could find, everyone in the room began to clap for her, encouraging the happy woman to spin around with glee. That was until she noticed Matilda, who did not clap for her.

In fact, Matilda would not even look at the bride—and it was not because she did not think the bride was beautiful, nor was it because she did not like the bride. It was because her mother died in her father's arms just a mere month ago.

So, even as Malcolm stood beneath the pavilion, reciting his vows in the pouring rain, Matilda could not find it in herself to clap for them. The bride, or Vivien knew. Perhaps that was why she did not push Matilda—not the way that Malcolm would. Letting them move into their cabin and forcing her to call them family was a betrayal he could not understand—or would not.

No one seemed to mind the thunder, roaring from above as they had their first kiss as a married couple. Nor did they care about the downpour of rain as they sat around the tables, eating the food prepared by the folks who worked in the kitchen. It seemed that for the first time in a long time, everyone on the ranch had forgotten what lingered beyond the gated community.