Wedding blues

“You know when you said you’d do anything for me, were they just words?” Camille asked.

“Of course not, what do you need?” Tracey asked, stepping away from the full length mirror to face her friend.

“If anyone asks, just tell them I was here all morning.”

“Consider it done.,” Tracey said, with a smile, today was the happiest day of her life, nothing would change that.

“If you could find a place to hide these too, I’d be grateful,” Camille said, handing Tracey a pair of scissors, handle first. The blades were sticky with fresh blood.

“What’s this?”

“The murder weapon,” Camille said with a shrug.

“And now my prints are all over it, thanks,” Tracey snapped, wishing she had chosen the gloves with her wedding outfit.

“I needed to ensure your help.”

“My word is not enough?” Tracey asked, her voice quite.

Camille knew she had crossed a line, “I knew it would be, I didn’t think,” Camille said back peddled a little hoping it would suffice.

“There is a funeral in the next room, help me get out of this outfit and follow my lead,” Tracey said, with a sigh. Either way she was involved now.

As it was they got lucky; they arrived at the funeral just as everyone was lining up to pay their respects to the deceased. Approaching the coffin Tracey kept her head bowed, muttered a few words, and slipped the scissors into the lower part of the coffin.


“Do you think we can get back to my wedding now?” Tracey asked, slipping back out of the funeral. “Trust me when I say I don’t want to know any details, I hoped you could curtail your impulses for a day, I should have known it was too much to ask for.”

(word count 298)