I carefully washed the blood from my hands, I hid the knife. Stepping over her body I walked to where the garment bag hung, and the white dress was concealed. I unzipped the bag and took the dress off of its hanger. Holding the dress up to my body I walked over to the mirror and admired myself.
I looked at the girl on the floor, her body cold and lifeless. We were the same height, same weight, we had the same eye and hair color, we were the same in appearance, only she was dead and I was alive.
I slipped the dress on the dress; the satin was smooth against my skin. I took out concealer to hide the telltale tattoo; the one thing that made us different. I put on the veil making sure that my face was covered.
There was a knock on the door, “You ready to go lady bug?”
“Yes daddy.” I said adjusting my voice to match hers. I stepped around the pool of blood that the floor refused to soak up, making sure that no blood got on my dress, and that no one saw anything.
He led me down the aisle; the man I despised and loved stood smiling, waiting for his disgusting fiancée and their unborn child; she would never come. She lay dead in the back room, her blood in a pool surrounding her body. I had stabbed her; first in her belly, then her throat, finally I stabbed her heart.
Not that it mattered no one would know the difference. We reached the end of the aisle. “I love you.” The center of my love and hatred whispered. I had wanted to hear those words for so long and yet they were not for me but for her.
I took his arm and stood in front of the preacher; we said our vows my voice the perfect copy of hers; and he slipped the gold wedding band on my finger. Then the preacher said “You may now kiss your bride.”
He lifted the veil smiling, then the smile was gone, his eyes went wide and he stumbled backwards as my knife pierced his heart and the poison I had taken the hour before took my life. This was it he was mine I had won.



As my life slipped away I reflected. I had stood in the back ground as the man I loved more than anyone dated my twin sister. I hoped and prayed that he would realize that it was me he wanted. Then she conceived their love child, he proposed and I was forced to take matters into my own hands. I went from bridesmaid to bride. I killed my sister . . . my twin sister, I killed the man I loved and could never have, I killed a future life who had done nothing to me other than strengthen the bond between my sister and her lover. I had killed and I had died; and now it was all over.