The Devil's Deal

✁Day Zero- October 31st, 2018. Earth. ✄Pandora I take in my surroundings for the last time. The walls are piled together with cedarwood, as a cabin should be. The only downside to this cabin is that it’s a studio. The bedroom and kitchen are tucked snuggly in opposite corners. From where I sit in the middle of the area, the bedroom rests on my right side and the kitchen on the left side. We rented this place just for tonight so that I could get dressed for my wedding. I never thought I’d be getting married, much less to my boyfriend from my last year in school. We got together seven years ago, when I was eighteen, and got engaged three years ago. It was sweet; how he proposed. I went to school to become a pastry chef as soon as possible. I got my degree three years ago, right before he proposed. So when he suggested, on the day of my graduation, that we go out to eat, I wasn’t the least bit curious- until he made me blindfold myself while in the car. That’s when my curiosity sank in. When we finally reached his planned place, I heard shuffling and a door open as a bell dinged our arrival. He told me to remove my blindfold, and as soon as I did, the sight melted my heart. Kneeled below me, down on one knee, was James Richmond. He wore a black suit and tie from my ceremony, his dirty blonde hair was spiked effortlessly, and his green eyes glimmered in the building’s light. In his right hand, he held a black felt ring box with the lid propped open as a shimmering, radiant diamond ring snuggly inside the ring cushion. James asked me if I would marry him and accept the small building we were in as a wedding gift: a place to start my pastry business. I tried to turn it down, but he insisted on it. After all, he got promoted to CEO when his father passed away, so he could afford it. That very pasty store is where I met my current best friend and bridesmaid, Ava Montgomery. I feel a smile perk at the corner of my lips at the memory. “Ouch! s**t that hurts!” I shriek, jumping slightly, still in my standing position, as a small pinch tingles on my thigh. I glare down at the tan plump female crouching below me, who has a few black safety pins sticking out of her mouth. Removing her working hands from my coarse black dress, she holds her left palm out and drops the pins into her hand. Effortlessly with one head movement, she swoops her straight hot pink hair back behind her left shoulder. ”Well, if you’d stop moving, I wouldn’t have stuck you,” she says, scowling at me as she meets my eyes, her greenish-brown eyes flashing with amusement. "Avaaaa,” I groan, switching the weight to relieve some stress from my toes in the high heel shoes. I’ve been standing here on this hardwood floor for what seems like hours, but in reality, I’ve been here for nearly one. “Don’t Ava me,” she growls in irritation. “I am a pastry chef, say it with me: pay-es-tree!” She howls in laugher as she stands upright from her crouching position, making her a solid average height. “It doesn’t mean I can decorate your body. I do well to dress my own body,” she states, motioning to her plain outfit of a solid black hoodie and sweat pants. I point over to a floor mirror tucked away beside the bed. Its dark wooden frame lifts it off the floor a few inches. “Drag the mirror over here- let me have a looksie,” I suggest. With a sassy look and a hand placed firmly on her left hip, she stares into my eyes. “Do I look like your maid, woman?” Her sassy attitude coming through full force. “Yea, a bridesmaid that gets free wedding food, so get your thick ass over there and bring the damn mirror,” I groan impatiently, playfulness clear in my voice. Ava’s face falls flat as she removes her hand from her hip. “You know, you’re right for once. Ain’t nothing standing between me and a free stake,” she sings, walking over and starts dragging the mirror back. The loud screech of it grinding against the wooden floor rings through the air until it’s placed in front of me. “Thank you, your highness,” I chuckle as I pretend to bow facing her, who now stands to the left of the mirror. Ava bows back. “Of course,” she says elegantly, almost like a snob. “Now look at yo damn dress and see if I need to fix it,” she hisses impatiently. “Okay, okay. Calm yourself, tiger,” I say as I move my hands in a calming manner. Staring at my reflection, I wonder if this dress was the best idea. My long blue-black hair, thanks to a dye kit, reaches right below my ass. I’m roughly 165 centimeters, so it’s a lot of hair. Hair that I offered to have put up on the wedding day, but James said he liked it down. My bright amber eyes are striking and sometimes off-putting to strangers. My pale skin refuses to tan in the sunlight, thanks to my Irish background, so my dress makes me appear like a gothic princess. The dress is strapless and made of luxurious silk. It ripples at the long edges that drag the ground, it’s hard to believe that Ava tacked them up as far as she could without it looking trashy. Loose black silk drapes around my midsection, from my left side, and flows down into the waterfall of fabric. “The dress is beautiful, Ava, but do you think it looks okay on me?” I ask, concern lacing my words. “It’s beautiful on you, Pandora-” Ba-Bam! The wooden door to the cabin slams wide open, cutting Ava off midsentence. I jump slightly and twirl around in confusion. No one else should be here. An average height female stands in the doorway, disheveled and hysterically crying. Her bright red hair is curled in ringlets stopping right below her full breasts. “Pandy, I tried reaching you, but you wouldn’t answer,” she bawls as she rushes forward and stands right in front of me, her large flower cased phone in her left hand. “Isabella?” I ask in disbelief.