I secured my high crown braids with the hair pins. Finally! I managed to make it look good up there. Well it should have look good, I've spent a lot of time practicing the hairstyle. I had told them that I would do my hair on my own, though I don't think they appreciate it—since I am good but in hair styling and cosmetic.
I let them touch me up on the face, making my skin looks a little bit more flawless then it usually did on a different day. But today is a special day, so I let them patch my face with all the chemicals I rather not know what.
I twirl around, testing how my skirt flowed in the wind. I like how it comes out, the dress. I designing it myself! I always wanted to design my own dress, I just happen to come by with the perfect opportunity on this special day. The skirt might look a bit steampunk-ish but that's the idea! I love steampunk. My mother would question me in another day for wearing dresses like this, but today is not just any other day!
Oh! Look the ceremony has started! The soon-to-be husband is coming in through the gate with his party and folks. The sounds of drums and tambourine is booming and echoing in the small and quiet village, following along with the groom steps.
He turn around and round the beads inlaid umbrella that fixed on the ground, performing the local tradition. I've seen it done during the weddings in this part of the country, countless of time already. Now he's reaching for the door, another man extending his hand to sprinkle water on his leather-clad-feet, another tradition.
He walk in the door and proceed to the dais then stopping to stand in front of it, waiting. I look at his face through all of this affair. Seeing how awkward he is with the traditions, and people looking and standing in awe at him like he's a king. But still nothing seems to make his face gloom, he is as bright as the sun in the clear sky today.
He glance at me once, and then I drop down the hand fan I was holding. Revealing the bride's bowed face. The groom let out a visible exhale, he must have hold his breath at one point. He smiled, and so does my sister, the bride. It always surprise me how those chemical makes one look prettier once applied correctly and thoughtfully. My sister look stunning. They always did on their wedding day.
Now, I dreaded what's the next question to comes to my way. Let just hope that my parents don't fuss me over it, and don't bother all the question so much.
*the fictional scene written by the author that picturized the exact biggest fear of her as a single person.