@perfectionreached is the maid of honor on Shauna's happy (?) day
Thank god for wedding day superstitions. The groom wasn't allowed to see the bride until that fateful walk down the aisle, so that meant Jeff wasn't nearby to see Shauna threatening to ruin an hour's worth of careful makeup with an ill-timed bout of tears. Taissa, her maid of honor, was on damage control, and boy, was it a lot of damage.
Not only was the sight of herself in a white dress (pure as the driven, deadly snow) hard to comprehend, but Shauna just remembered something--
"Tai, there's... there's the cake knife. Oh, god -- it's beautiful and it has our initials engraved on it. It was a gift from the Taylors, and what if I try to hurt him with it?"
For almost two years of her life, knives had not been beautiful, silvered things for slicing sugared breads in delicately manicured hands. They were hard, leather-wrapped things with edges held to the whetstone, pointed and lethal. Shauna had wrapped her dirtied fingers around the handle and skinned, cleaved, and butchered humans and animals alike. Hungry eyes holding fast, watching. What would she do today, in front of the crowd of loved ones waiting to see how that cake would bleed what flavor they'd finally decided on?
"Taissa, I don't think I can do this..."
Yes, thank god for wedding day superstitions. Too bad they never said nothing about seeing the ghost of your dead best friend sitting in the corner, watching the scene and saying absolutely nothing.
