When We Are Older

Marina

I don’t want to get married today.

Pure discomfort is radiant in my reflection as I sit on that damn chair in front of the mirror while my mother is standing behind me. She is humming to herself and braiding pearls into my hair to create that perfect Victorian hairstyle.

She is calm and collected. And I hate how she is acting as if it’s perfectly normal to marry off your teenager to some random guy from another tribe before she has even turned eighteen.

His name is Rain. I haven’t met him yet. My mother says it’s bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding, but I had hoped to at least see his face before our parents had arranged this wedding.

My mother, however, called me shallow when I asked to see his face. Apparently, I should be grateful that my family has found me a husband. It’s a privilege to get married, my mother has told me.

Unfortunately, I don’t share her opinion. At least not with arranged marriages, which in my mind, equals death to your soul. Love is the meaning of life; finding genuine love is my dream, and I can’t think of anything worse than having my partner picked for me.

“There you go,” My mother places her hands on my shoulders, smiling at our reflection while brushing invisible dust from my dress. Happiness is radiant in her eyes, while sadness seems to be the only emotion in mine.

“Are you excited?” She asks.

I inhale at her words, begging her with my eyes to not ask me such a question. She knows the answer already. I would much rather escape from our town than go through with this wedding. Sadly, there is nowhere to run.

The monsters living on the surface forced humans to build towns and cities underground. My tribe lives under a mountain, and there is only one tunnel leading away from our small town. It’s the one leading to my groom’s city, which means someone would eventually find me if I tried to make a run for it.

I suppose there is another tunnel leading to the surface, but I’m not suicidal enough to become monster food. Surviving up there is near impossible for a lonely human girl.

“No, I’m not happy,” My tone is wistful, filled with apparent depression. “I don’t want to get married,”

“Why not?” My mother asks, oblivious.

I stare into her eyes for a moment, trying to figure out if she is sarcastic. Marrying someone against my will sounds more like a punishment rather than a blessing. I can’t believe some girls long for an arranged wedding. In my eyes, they are all lunatics, counting the days until they turn sixteen to marry some stranger they have never met.

Who would wish upon such a fate?

“Because I haven’t even met him!” I snap at her, unable to hide the pent-up frustration from my voice.

“Oh, Honey...” My mother massages my shoulder. “Rain is a good man,”

“I don’t care,” I tell her in a shaky voice. I’m close to tears. “Because Rain being a good man won’t make me automatically fall in love with him!”

Both my hands are trembling, badly wanting to rip away the pearls from my hair. Today is nothing more than a joke, and the look of disappointment on my mother’s delicate face angers me further.

Why can’t she understand that this isn’t what I want?!

I don’t believe an arranged wedding will bring me happiness. Such tales are nothing but fairy tales, and there are no happy endings beneath this mountain!

God, I want to leave this stupid place, forget about our traditions and see what the world above has turned into with my own eyes! Becoming someone’s wife at sixteen isn’t what I want! My soul seeks adventure and flames.

I want... I want to fall in love and burn in the consuming flames of what they call passion!

Life has more things to offer than constant bitterness, I’m sure.

“I don’t want this!” I’m yelling now, shaking with anger.

“Marina, I know you might not appreciate this arranged wedding now. But once you bear children, you will thank the gods for having chosen such a rich husband for you,” My mother tries to calm me with her eyes, beaming at my reflection. “And you’re so beautiful, Marina. I wish your sister could see how pretty you look wearing my old dress,”

My heart aches at the mentioning of my sister. Her name was Jenny. She was the only sane person living under the mountain, the only one I could talk to, and she died two years ago.

One morning she left the mountain to see the world above the surface, and she never returned. It pains me to think about her, so I try to mash my mother’s words into the back of my skull and change the subject.

“I’m not pretty...” I mumble.

“Don’t be silly!” My mother laughs at me with pride blooming over her features. I’m wearing her old wedding dress, and I can tell it’s bringing her pleasant memories of when she married my father. “Rain is one lucky man,”

“Why do I have to marry him?” Tears are streaking along my chin, falling onto my trembling knees and hands. “I don’t want to...”

“Honey...” My mother talks in that concerned tone that tells me I can do nothing to change the future. “We can’t just cancel the wedding,”

“CANCEL THE WEDDING!”

The sudden words yelled outside our tent make me stand up. Someone is blowing the horn, signaling people to gather in the town square. And I know I shouldn’t feel relieved, but nothing can stop me from smiling at the change of fate.

“What in the world is happening?” My mother growls, clearly upset. “Cancel the wedding?!”

Ignoring my mother, I rush out of the tent without even putting on any shoes. Nothing can stop me from leaving. For months, I’ve prayed and begged the gods to stop this wedding. Now someone has heard my prayers!

Clumsily, I push through the crowd outside. The people came to see the wedding, but now they migrate to the town square in a throng.

Voices echoes between the buildings. Hesitantly, I follow a herd of people, stopping when the entire ground quakes beneath my feet.

“What is that?” Someone asks.

“People call them angels, but they look like monsters...” An old man replies.

I squeeze between two old men, gaping when I spot the largest boy I’ve ever seen in the town square. He must be over twenty feet tall, easily dwarfing the men from the army even when he is down on his knees. There is cloth around his mouth to keep him from speaking, chains to restrain his clumsy movements.

“MOVE!” A man from the army yells.

The chains around the giant’s arms rustle as the men from the army press their guns into his legs to force him forward. He is bleeding. There are open wounds on both his legs and arms. I don’t care; I hold no pity for him.

“Monster...” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop myself from speaking.

Not that anyone could blame me.

Hatred is the only emotion I hold for the other race we call angels. They live on the surface, and like every monster, they love the taste of our skin on their tongue. Humans are high on their menu, and plenty of people I know have died at the hands of this monstrous creature.

Rumors even say an angel might have eaten my sister, so I hold no compassion for the larger species.

They might resemble us with their human-like faces and hands, but their eyes have this enchanting glow that lures you in like a moth to a flame. And their voices are dangerously beautiful. Countless men have fallen victim to their song. The melody makes men put down their weapons so the monstrous creatures can eat them.

I shiver against my wishes, glaring at the angel with more suspicion than ever. It’s a male angel with white hair and pale skin. Strong feathered wings clad his back, but even though he resembles the serene creatures depicted in our churches, angels are nothing short of terrifying.

They are human-eating creatures with an unearthly beauty that makes them look like empty shells without a soul.

“Lie down on the ground and don’t move a muscle!”

The giant creature glares at the man who is barking out orders at him. For a minute, I expect the angel to fight back, but when another man whacks him with a whip, he does as he was told.

Hands as large as the carpet in my tent press against the ground, and for the first time, I notice someone has tied up the angel’s large wings with ropes. More knots than I can count are keeping the robust creature from escaping.

Though, I’m guessing the open wounds on its body are playing a huge part too. Plenty of blood is already gushing out on the street, and I avert my eyes, sickened by the blue color. It would surprise me if the angel survived through the night, considering an average human wouldn’t survive such severe blood loss.

Already bored by the scene, I turn around to leave the creature to its fate. It’s a pure coincidence that I catch its silver hair and see the beads twisted around its bangs.

“Holy pancakes...” I hold my breath as I recognize the beads the creature is wearing.

Years ago, I arranged those beads in a bracelet that I gave to my sister when she turned five. She always wore that bracelet, probably even on the day she disappeared. And now this monster is wearing it like an accessory in its long hair.