There she was the most perfectly shaped body ever created, and she was to suppose to buy me. As she looked through the dress, I pictured her wearing me, walking down the aisle, looking like an angel. However, wait, out of the shadows the unshapeliest figure, looking at me. Every monstrous step she took, the floor shook beneath me. It was as if someone had unleashed Godzilla on to the unsuspected wedding shop, and I was her victim. If I had a mouth, I would have screamed.
I could not take my eyes of off that gorgeous, most attractive and charming dress. It was like, that dress was made just for me. I imagined how I would look on my wedding day, wearing it. However, for some reason I had the feeling the dress, hated me.
She squeezed herself though me, not noticing that the she had ripped my seaming. The shapely women, that dreamed to be worn by, looked at me as if I was her lost love forced into the arms of fat, ghastly, wicked women.
The dress was a bit tight for me, but I was still going to buy it because it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. I saw another woman, staring at my beautiful dress. I bet she was jealous of how pretty I looked.
On the day of the wedding, after screaming at her brides maids for leaving her place cards at the hotel, she once more squeezed her humongous body into me. I begged God to free my soul from God’s sense of humor turned bad. There I was the most handsome, attractive, and charming wedding dress, made by one of the best designer in the world, and now worn by an enormous, lazy, rounded, stubborn, rich women.
I was in a horrible mood on my wedding day. My parents had just informed me that they were not going to come to my wedding because one of their friends was sick and they decided to go and see him, instead of going to their daughter's wedding. The dress seemed even tighter on that day. Even after I had been on a very strict diet for three weeks.
As she walked down the church aisle, the sound of my beautiful silk ripping filled the air. She turned red and ran to the nearest restroom. For a couple of minutes, she stood their crying. Then as if it was my fault that she was fat, and it was my fault that I did not inform her that I was about to rip. She got a pair of scissors and rips me into even smaller pieces, than flushed me down the toilet. Unfortunately, for both of us, the toilet was out of order, and it threw me out like a soccer ball and on her once more.
I do not know why I took all my anger out on that poor dress, but it had caused me the most embarrassing day of my life.
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