Bridezilla - (by Jesse Arnold)

In a bright, sun lit room, a bride stands before a trio of mirrors.  Her hair is perfectly combed. It's sculpted and shinning.  Not a single flyaway.  She places her sparkling diamond tiara gently but firmly upon her locks.  She turns her head side to side, watching the jewels sparkle.  She bats her long mascara enhanced eyelashes at her own reflection.  Working on her best expressions.  She purses her lips, glistening that perfect shade of lipstick.  She smiles, her dazzling white teeth flash, a bright contrast to the just right spray on tan of golden brown.  The professional whitening, to remove all the build up from all the sweets and coffee that stained them.

She flashed a few more dazzling smiles at herself the began to look over her dress.  It is so beautiful.  So intricate and expensive.  The finest silk, pearls, you name it.  The finest dress that money could buy.  It clings to her body just enough to show off how hard she worked out, but was modest enough not to upset any grandparents.  The train was long and flowing.  It was just a touch off white, a soft ivory.  It accented her skin so well.  She sprays on some perfume, letting the sweet fragrance envelop her.

Today is her day.  It's all about her.  She hopes the groom is putting his tux on with as much care and effort as she put her dress on.  It doesn't really matter how he looks though.  Every eye will be upon her as she walks down the aisle.  She's been dreaming of this day for so long.  Forget all the flirtations and almost flings.  She saved herself for this, but she came close a few times.  Now, she wants those who rejected her, laughed at her to rue the day they did so.  Look at what they are missing out on.  She had worked hard to transform herself into the resplendent creature that stood looking out from three reflections.  Her shoes were the only problem.  She could hardly walk. But they looked so good.  Made her tall and slender form stand out above everyone.  They hurt her feet, but they were gorgeous.  Too bad no one could see them.

There's a knock at the door.

Angry she fumes to herself, who would dare disturb her!?  She needs to look her best.  Needs to let everyone see how much effort she put into her appearance.  The nerve!

The knock repeats.

Furious she stomps as loudly as she can, in her difficult shoes, to the door and flings it open...

"What?!"  she screams.

She sees her groom.  He looks at her.

The room is cold and damp and suddenly she feels ugly.  Her perfect hair is greasy and full of chemicals.  Her skin and teeth look garish and fake.  The make-up feels like sludge on her face.  The dress is a gaudy sack that is too tight and doesn't feel like it covers enough.

The groom sighs...breathing new life.

The cold damp walls melt away.  They stand now in a vibrant garden.  Full of green life and flowers.  The jewels and adornments blow away like feathers in the wind.  The grease washes out of her hair, it waves freely in the breeze, light and natural.  The make-up melts away, the tan disappears and her natural complexion shows forth.  A blush rises to her cheeks.  The mascara is gone, her eyes are clear and bright.  The sack of a dress shimmers and shifts as it becomes pure white linen.  Simple and clean.  Her shoes dissolve and her aching feet find relief in the fresh soft grass.

There is no audience.  There are no more onlookers for her to make jealous.  She is alone with the groom, before his Father.  She has been made new.  She is now like she was when he first saw her on the shores of Galilee.  The smell of the sea in her hair and the warmth of the sun on her face.  She lost all the trappings that she thought she needed to be a Bride.  Instead of just becoming the Bride he already knew her to be.