Expect the worst, then prepare for it. That was my motto but nothing in the world could have prepared me for the horrific disaster before my eyes. Layer upon layer of knee length cotton candy colored taffeta contorting my beautiful 5’5” hourglass figure into an indistinct box with white lace ribbons straining to keep the dress in place. As I look at the monstrosity of a bridesmaid dress that Susan has put me in I hear a commotion in the hallway. Thinking nothing of it I reluctantly sit in front of the vanity mirror to fix my hair, like fixing my hair will magically fix that tragedy of a dress. As I finish pinning my long white blonde hair out of my face I hear blood curdling screams coming from the hallway. I rush to the door frantically swinging it open and look into the hall, it was empty, my eyes fall to a bloody hand print and blood splattered all over the floor, my heart begins to race I rush back into the room and close the door as quietly as possible then proceeded to grab my purse and rummage through it. “The one day I forget my knife.” I mutter as I throw my purse down. Scanning the room I find a rather sharp makeup brush “this will have to do.” I huff grabbing the makeup brush from the vanity table shouldering my purse and head back into the hallway. As I turn the corner towards the bridal suite I practically fall over Meghan who is laying on her side in the walkway covered in blood and torn cotton candy taffeta. As I reach down to check on her she rolls over, “oh Meghan thank…” I try not to scream. The right half of her face is gone, her golden brown hair sticking to the gnarled mess and tangled around her chocolate brown eye that now hangs from its socket. I step over her quickly and launch myself into the bridal suite