The blushing bride is my long time frienemy. She's always been miss perfect, dating the prom king, friends with all the atheletic girls while I sat at the goth table and attracted men that were just a bundle of red flags parading as a human being.

She's never known that deep down I hate and resent her and makes that perfectly clear when she asks me to be her maid of honor.

Since she knows I am a witch, I think the reason she chose me as her maid of honor and not her perfect microwbrow sephora Rue 21 friends is because she thinks that will prevent me from hexing her.

Ok, I might not hex her but I'm still vengeful.

The catering is so impossibly white and basic, I'm mad, I'm hungry and I want revenge. I use my dark powers to shrink miss perfect down and hold her with my fingers wrapped around her stupid dress, pull her veil off with my teeth and set her down in the perfect sod so she can get a good look at my huge filthy soles.

She may be screaming, I don't know. She's so tiny it sounds like squeaks and I don't care anyways, begging has never influenced me in any way.

I lick her face, smearing her perfect face of makeup and wetting her brushed out curls with my saliva. She has always smelled of strawberries and she tastes of them too.

Destroying her with my dirty heels and painted toes, I tell her what I really think of her. I don't hold back. When I've done adequate damage, feeling justified yet still hungry, the maid of honor devours the blushing bride.

Maid of Honor tramples and devours the bride

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