The early April chill danced around the cherry blossom trees, causing petals to fall lightly on the dry crisp ground. The usual morning sounds of people making breakfast, hurrying off to work and screaming children were also present in the air of Osaka Avenue. All the houses were exceptionally busy, but one house was far more hectic. House number eight was usually quite relaxed. It belonged to Oliver and soon-to-be Maia Winston.
It was the morning of their wedding day and so far everything was running smoothly. Following tradition, Oliver was in a separate location to Maia, but this didn’t stop him being there mentally. Absolutely everywhere post-it notes and scrap pieces of pink paper read personal messages. On the gold framed mirror, a note read;
You needn’t care about your hair…
“‘Cause you look beautiful all of the time.” Maia sang with a smile. She barely left her bedroom as she got ready, as the light blue surroundings calmed her nerves.
The hours seemed to fly as Maia and her bridesmaids got ready. Make up bags and cans of hairspray where flying in every direction. Everyone but the bride seemed about to explode with sheer stress. Maia stood alone, pulling her dress over her head. She let it fall down her delicate body and pulled her hair out of her face so she could admire her appearance. The dress was amazingly light, and the colour of empty clouds. It was soft to the touch. Every edge of the dress has light lace surrounding it. A ribbon was undone and hanging loose on her back.
“Mai, can I come in?” Emily knocked gently on the door.
“Yeah, I need you actually.”
“Oh, what’s wrong?!” Emily came bursting into the room, expecting to see a mess. Instead, she saw her stunning best friend, still looking rather stunning. They both laughed then squealed in excitement.
“Could you..” Maia gestured towards the ribbon.
After a few more extras, including earrings, shoes and tiara, Maia was ready. She was about to become the most luckiest girl in the world, she thought. Oliver was a successful chef, and owned his very own restaurant; La Food. He had first met Maia at La Food, when she complained about the soup. She remembered bursting into the kitchen and demanding to see the chef. When a tall ginger man with bright emerald eyes emerged from behind the counter, the complaint has escaped her mind. After chatting for a brief moment and a dinner date was set, Oliver rushed off to finish one of his famous apple pies. Less than two years later, there they were. About the commit themselves to each other forever. The bridal party piled into the white limo that was soon bursting with girly giggles. Maia’s dark hair rested gently on her shoulders. Her oriental skin was completely flawless, and he deep brown eyes were accompanied with silver glitter. The limo started up, and so did the singing. This was going to be the most amazing day of her life. Not long now.
Oliver’s ginger hair was tufting off into multiple directions as he tightened his bowtie. He winked at himself in the mirror, then hopped off to the bathroom to fix the fluffy mess atop his head. After numerous amounts of moose and gel, he looked almost human. He was ready, and the wedding wasn’t for another two hours. He jogged down the stairs of his friends house to join them in the living room. Jackass was on TV and cups of coffee cluttering the room. Breakfast was prepared neatly on the kitchen table; complete with fresh flowers in a water filled vase.
“Morning Ollie boy!” his best man J shouted. He pat him hard on the back and they both laughed. “Ready already?”
“Well it appears to be that way, yes.”
“Alright alright, just thinking…what if you spill egg down ya?”
Oliver gave J one hell of a dirty look. A man who prepares food for a living does not make a mess when eating food, obviously. The men joked around a while longer, until the plain white clock told them what they were waiting for. 10.30. Time to leave. The group split into smaller groups, so they could fit into the three cars available. Oliver was being driven in J’s car, with Simon and Greg.
“Right, here we go!” cried J, in his overly excited manner. Oliver rolled his eyes to Simon, and he began to laugh along. J appeared to be more excited than Oliver, but inside, Oliver was bubbling with excitement. This was going to be the most amazing day of his life. Not long now.
A lonely milkman was driving his milk float steadily along the empty roads. It had been a long morning. He had been awake since four, driving around Oakland town, delivering milk. You’d think most mornings he’d feel the way he did now, unappreciated and unfulfilled, but this morning the harsh reality of being a milkman well and truly hit him.
He looked around. Not a single person, or vehicle, in sight. The thought of sleep soon overpowered his mind. I’ll shut my eyes for a few minutes, while no-ones here, he thought. The quick nap grew to a slumber. His head slowly flopped onto the wheel. His feet subconsciously pushed harder onto the peddles. Soon, his small blue milk float was reaching record speeds of fifteen miles an hour.
It was now 10:40 and he was still fast asleep.
A white limo had just hit the same road. In the back, celebrations were already taking place, as Maia sped towards her dreams.
“Hey girls, I know you’re having a good time, but can we calm it down?” asked the driver, as he turned his head to check on the noise.
“Sorry Eugene, deepest regards,” one of the already tipsy bridesmaids mimicked. The driver rolled his eyes and turned back to the road. In front of him was a speeding milk float. It hit the front of the limo just as the driver had began to turn. Laughter was replaced with screaming as the limo turned over and bounce onto the cold tarmac.
10:43, and Oliver was getting closer and closer to the venue. J had convinced him to take the longer route as it was always empty, even in rush hour. The radio was blurring the latest chart hits, and the men where singing along. The atmosphere in the car was so comfortable. It was almost like being back at school, on a trip.
“Man, turn it over, I hate this crap,” J moaned.
“God, you’d think this was your car or something..” Oliver said in his usual sarcastic tone. Yet, he didn’t make any attempt to change the station.
“I’m serious. I’ll stop this goddamn car!”
“Do it. I’ll walk to the wedding, get brownie points for my dedication..”
“Whatever man, it’s going off.” J reached over and began to fiddle with the stereo. Every station that came on just seemed to be worse than the last one. “Hey, let’s just put a CD on!” He continued to look around his car, not paying any attention to the road. He grabbed a Rod Stewart album when Oliver screamed,
“J, TURN THE CAR AROUND NOW!” J shot up from under the dashboard to see the most horrific sight of his life. Luckily, he stopped the car just before he collided with the smashed limo. On the side of the road, several women in red dressed were crying. One was on the phone, to the emergency services they assumed. Oliver soon recognised Emily. He had never moved so fast in his life. He was running towards the wreck, his heart pumping so fast he thought he may have a heat attack. Emily’s eyes soon met Oliver’s and she ran towards him. She had been crying, and her face was covered in blood.
“OLIVER! OLIVER, SHE’S IN THERE STILL! PLEASE!” She was sobbing, but Oliver just held her close.
“Calm down Em, you know this is going to be okay. I just need you to tell me you’re okay.”
Emily pulled away from Oliver, and wiped the tears from under her musky blue eyes.
“I am going to be okay. I feel fine. Don’t worry about me” she touched his shoulder. He kissed her bloody cheek and told her to get the other girls together. Emily dashed off, organising the stricken bridesmaids as if it was the actual wedding. Oliver ran over to the limo. The girls had somehow managed to smash the door open and crawl out. He crawled inside the wreckage to find his bride. She was lying there, shaking in a pile of her own blood. Her dress had turned from the cleanest white to the darkest red, and her eyes were wide open.
“Maia! Maia! Can you hear me!” Oliver had began to panic. The woman he loved was close to death, he could see that. He continued to crawl down the upturned limo until he was right next to her. He held her hand tightly, and he kissed her forehead. Tears ran down his face. “Please….just say you can hear me..” his upset soon got replaced with self rage. How dare he be feeling sorry for himself, he must help Maia. There was still a pulse, her heart was beating as fast as his. She blinked, and tried to move her head. Oliver held her head still, and looked at her right in the eyes.
“You’re going to be fine Mai. I’ve got you. Just, try not to move right now.” She stared back at him, and a smile spread across her lips.
“You…know….it’s bad….luck…to…see me…before the…wedding.” Tears fell silently down her soft skin. Oliver forced a laugh then began to lift her. The back of her head was bleeding, and her ribs were bruised pretty badly. He held her head and hips, and slowly pulled her out of the car. The bridesmaids and pageboys were all together. They seemed calm, the men taking care of the women. J was the first to notice Oliver and Maia emerge from the car.
“CAN I HAVE SOME HELP?!” Jay shouted and he ran over to assist Oliver. Together, they lifted Maia out of the car. Oliver was holding her, keeping her head close to his chest.
“The ambulance is coming?” asked Oliver.
“Yeah, should be here any minute now.” J replied.
“Good, make sure everyone is okay.” Oliver walked over to a near-by bench, and sat down. Maia still seems pretty lifeless, even thought she was blinking more now and breathing heavily against Oliver’s chest. “You know you’re going to be okay, don’t you?” he smiled at her. Somehow, she could still sense the fear in him.
“Ollie…I love you. So much.” Maia whimpered and began to breath heavy again. He opened his mouth to talk, but she pushed her finger onto his lips. “Just incase…the worst does happen…you need to know…how happy you’ve made me.” she smiled at him. He smiled back and she kissed him.
“You’re going to be okay,” he said more confidently than before.
“I’m tired…” Maia’s eyes were barely open, and her head suddenly got heavier.
“Mai, listen, you HAVE to keep your eyes open. I can hear the ambulance now. You can sleep soon, but not now. Please.”
The late April warmth hit hard against the cherry blossom trees, and the fallen petals on the ground. The usual morning sounds of people making breakfast, hurrying off to work and screaming children was absent from the air of Osaka Avenue. All the houses were quiet, and appeared to be empty. House number eight was defiantly the quietest. It belonged to Oliver Winston. His fiancï¿½e died on their wedding day.