The Wedding Ring

Hello fellow Readers and Writers! Last week I was unable to add a new story and writing exercise to the blog, but I am back and excited to share another story with you today!

Exercise Time: Consider an element of science fiction, whether it be time travel, anti-aging innovations, artificial life, etc. Now consider one of these elements implemented into daily life. It's easy to forget that while time moves forward and technology increases, the human condition does not change very much. For this exercise I want you to place an element of sci fi into every day life. The setting can still be futuristic. Just don't forget about the human factor. How would the individual engage this element that is most likely becoming as natural to daily life as nature itself (or maybe nature is no longer natural)?  Allow yourself to be creative. Before, during or after you've done a little writing or brain storming scroll down, read my story "The Wedding Ring" for more inspiration. 

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“Once you have permanently changed his reality, look for impossibilities,” he tells me. “Also, you signed the waiver right? Because there are no refunds or redoes. If the next reality is worse than this one, we are not responsible.”

“Yes, I signed the waiver,” I say dryly.

“Good luck.” He flips a switch and June 4^th, 2026 becomes a thing of the past and the future.

    

June 4th, 2016…again. How many times has the sun set and risen on this day? It’s impossible to keep track. The walls are still that mocha color, the one I chose when I was sixteen. I’m not sure if God even knows how long ago that was.

Today, I get out of bed. It won’t help, but it’s what I do. Once, I refused to get up. My mom spoke gently and stroked my hair and told me it was perfectly natural to get cold feet. If only she knew.  

            But today, I get out of bed. My sisters, they’re eighteen and fourteen, come in with curlers in their hair. Their smiles are wide and beautiful and sometimes they remind me of that very first day when my joy exceeded theirs.

            “Is something wrong?” Maggie, the older one, asks. Apparently my smile is not wide enough.

            “Why? Did the flowers not arrive?” The words hurt, but there is no use in saying anything else. I tried that once. I told them everything. I told them about the ring of time I was trapped in. They decided I was having a panic attack. Then, my parents told Mark I was ill. He said he didn’t care about superstitions and he was coming to see me. I begged and pleaded with him not to get in that car. It was no use. It ended the same. And I woke up to do it all again. To loose him again.

            Today…I want it to be over. I wonder if I was wrong in thinking I could change anything. The house is buzzing with excitement, but all I hear is the pulse of approaching doom. One hour until it happens again. One hour before the phone rings. My mom answers it. Her face drains of color. She collapses. Just like my world. I have one hour.

             I have tried just about everything I can think of except the thing that might remove me from this day and every day thereafter. I had hoped to alter reality so that we could enjoy it together, but I don’t know how, and I can’t endure this any more. I can’t live this day again.

            “You look so beautiful,” my mother says with teary eyes. They’ve just finished my hair and make-up. I force a smile onto my face.

            “You ready to get into your dress?” Mom asks.

            “Can I have a few minutes alone?” I ask carefully.

             “Everything okay?” she asks.

            “Yes of course.” I force a smile onto my face. She smiles in reply and  I go into my room and close the door. I enter the bathroom and open the medicine cabinet. As I do so, the ring on my finger catches a glimmer of light. My eyes sting with tears.

            “God, please help,” I whisper.  I lean back against the bathroom door and slide to the floor. I can’t do this anymore. It doesn’t  matter what approach I take, there doesn’t seem to be a reality where he and I get to be together. But is there a reality where only he lives? I look up at the cabinet again. I can’t. Even now, in my desperation, I can’t.

As I rest my aching head on my arm, a new idea begins to take form. Could there be a reality where Mark and I live, just not together? I look at the clock. I have thirty minutes.

            I stand and pull the emergency ladder out from under my bed. I use it to climb out of my second story window. My old bike is waiting on the side yard. I have tried aspects of this plan before, but this time it will be different. It has to be. I am speeding down the street and I swerve around the nail that gave me a flat tire once. I veer off the paved sidewalk, down into the wash and onto the dirt path Mark and I found when we were kids. As I drive through the tunnel, the sound of street traffic can be heard from above. I arrive on the paved route and I head straight for Mark’s house. I leave the bike on the lawn and sprint through the front door.

            “Mark!” I scream. The house rumbles with the alto voices of men.

            “Cammy, what are you doing here?” Mark’s best man asks.

            “I need Mark!”

            “The groom isn’t supposed to see the bride before…” Just then, I see him. He’s coming down the stairs. My heart shatters into a million pieces just seeing him standing there.

            “Cammy, what’s wrong?” He pulls me into his warm embrace and I cannot control the tears. How many days have I lived without seeing him? Only knowing again and again that he is dead or will be soon. But in this moment, he is safe.

            Could this be the end of my agony? I look up at his face and around at the room, searching for a sign. Searching for impossibilities. Everything seems hopelessly normal.

            “I need to talk to you privately,” I say. He leads me out onto the porch and closes the door.

            “What is going on?” he asks. I look into his eyes and wish there was some other way.

            “I can’t marry you,” I hear myself say. The expression on his face kills me. I try to look about for any sign that I have broken the chain of reality. I find nothing.

            “What is this about?” he asks.

            “I’m doing this for your good,” I am barely able to get out. With a shaky hand, I begin to remove my engagement ring. His hand stops me.

            “Can’t we talk about this? I don’t understand,” he says. Still, I find no signs. Maybe I will die of heart break. Maybe that’s how he will get to live.

            “I have to do this, Mark.” I pull the ring off and place it in his hand. Then, I close his fingers around it. Out of habit, I lift his left hand to my lips and kiss his ring finger. As I pull his hand away, I see it. The impossibility. He has a tan line from a ring he has never worn. The chain has been broken! I am not sure if the next time I see him I will be married to him. Maybe I won’t ever see him again. I will hear through a friend that his wife just gave birth to their third child. And maybe I will weep as I am now, but at least I will know he is alive. At least, my reality does not have to go on completely without him.

I hear him questioning me from far away now. I pray to God that I take back what I said. I pray that he does not give up on me. But now, as everything fades, I have to rest in the fact that I saved his life.