WA-5 Final draft

Part 1:
When my father announced that he was going to have a party in order for me to find myself a bride, I was mortified. My father may not have been the brightest bulb in the box, but really, a festival full of opportunities for me to make a fool of myself? I suppose this is the time to let you know that while I may have been born a prince, I am not the typical blue-blooded, horse-and-hounds, flattering idiot most princes are. No, I’m just a coward. So, while I may be occasionally charming, generally I try and avoid any situation where there is a possibility of disgracing myself along with the entire family name.
In retrospect, I suppose nothing went completely wrong. I found a nice, seemingly normal girl, and stuck to her for the rest of the night. Unfortunately, she managed to lose her shoe, which my father wouldn’t let me forget. Supposedly, this meant that she wanted to marry me?! I mean, geez, she was only like fifteen. But my father insisted, so I set out to find this girl, to marry her. I was so desperate to be done with the whole deal, I didn’t even care that the wrong girl was chosen- twice. Why had the girl worn a golden slipper anyway- it couldn’t be at all practical, and it looked downright uncomfortable.
Despite it being the day of our marriage, I still didn’t know the girl’s actual name: she said Aschenputtel, which couldn‘t be right. Anyway, I’m as nervous as hell, my father is still breathing down my neck, and suddenly I’m walking down the aisle. The girl takes considerable time to get up onto the dais, but she finally manages, however, she looks frankly murderous. I realize, with some apprehension, that I barely know the girl, I mean, I am assuming that she is pretty much normal, but what if she’s a nervous wreck, or just plain weird? Now is not the time to think about that, I told myself, and you better just get up there, say ‘I do’ and make you family proud.

Part 2:
Heaving my tulle monster up to where the Prince was standing was not easy. Let’s just say that between my father and I it happened, and leave it at that. The priest began the ceremony, and I looked at my Prince, seeking reassurance. Instead, I found myself looking at the lines around his eyes. Lines around his eyes- how old is he?? I’m fifteen, I can’t actually be marrying anyone who has lines around his eyes! Oh, God, I was truly panicking. What did I actually know about this Prince? I had only met him four days ago at the festival, what if he was some crazy princess killer? I looked back at the Prince, who now seemed fairly ominous, with a Joker-like expression on his face. Suddenly, everyone was staring at me.
-You need to say ‘I do’, the Prince said, with a dangerous edge to his voice.
-Well, I replied, I don’t. The crowd’s shocked expression was enough to throw me over the edge.
-No, I don’t. I don’t want to marry this Prince. I don’t even know him. For all I know he’s gonna kill me as soon as I get through the palace doors! I mean, he bloody well tried to marry both my stepsisters first cause they chopped off bits of their feet, I mean hello! This guy is an idiot!
However, the crowd was still trying to process the ‘bloody’ I had accidentally thrown in there. If anything, this set me off even more.
-Yes, I can swear. Bloody bloody bloody bloody!! You morons just bloody well almost saw me get married to a psychopath, and did nothing about it! I don’t know what to do with you idiots! AGGGGGGGHHHH!!!!
Ripping off the bottom half off of the tulle monstrosity, I ran to the lovely ‘just married’ carriage waiting at the end of the aisle. I threw the footman off, took the reins in my hand, cracked the whip, and galloped off into the sunset.
-Thank God you got out of that one, mate, the priest said sadly, patting the Prince on the shoulder.