The Bachelorette Party

My name is Anastasia Lincoln.

I'm twenty-three years old and engaged to Rene Rusten, the man I've shared the last five years of my life with.

Five years should mean security. Certainty. A "forever" without doubts or problems.

And yet, lately, there are nights when I lie staring at the ceiling, wondering if I truly know the man I'm about to marry.

I live with my father, my stepmother, and my half-sister.

It's not a home.

It's a place where I learned to make myself small.

My mother died the same day I was born. No one says it outright, but her absence is always present. In the lingering stares.

In the awkward silences.

In that constant feeling of never quite fitting in. As if I were a mistake everyone decided to tolerate.

Today is my bachelorette party.

My friends from work organized everything. I started working at eighteen — not because I needed to, but because being away from home became an urgent necessity. The arguments with my half-sister never end. And my stepmother... she always found a way to remind me that I'm not her daughter.

So I learned to stay quiet.

To endure.

To never put my father in the middle.

"Ania, hi, sweetheart."

I recognized his voice from the doorway while I rummaged through the closet, not knowing what to wear.

"Hi, Dad," I replied, forcing a smile I didn't quite feel.

He stood watching me in silence. He'd been doing that a lot lately. As if he wanted to tell me something and didn't know how.

"I can't believe you'll be leaving this house soon."

I walked over and hugged him tight. Tighter than usual.

"I'll come by often," I promised. "I'm not going to disappear."

He sighed.

"I'm glad you found a good man."

"Rene is... really sweet," I said. "And he loves me very much."

At that moment, my stepmother appeared behind him.

"We're waiting for you," she said, in that cold tone that never changed.

My father tried to keep his composure.

"Ania, I came to tell you we're going to dinner and—"

"I made reservations for three," she interrupted, with a tight smile.

My father frowned.

"I don't care. I'll pay for one more."

She turned around, annoyed. I took a deep breath.

"Dad, don't worry. Go ahead. My coworkers will come get me."

"But the wedding is still a week away..."

"I know. But with all the preparations, they wanted to do it today."

He nodded, resigned.

"Take care," he said. "And call me if anything happens."

I watched them from the window as they pulled away in the car. Part of me felt relief. Another part, guilt.

I bathed slowly, letting the warm water cascade down my back. I put on a fitted pink dress that fell to my knees.

Heels in the same color.

Hair down, barely waved.

I looked at myself in the mirror.

I looked happy.

Nervous. And, deep down, scared.

My phone buzzed. It was Rene.

"How's the most beautiful bride in the world?"

"Good," I replied. "Almost ready for the party."

Silence.

"You know I don't like that."

"Just a couple of hours."

"Ania... that's not proper for a decent young woman. Text me. The whole time."

I smiled. At that moment, I interpreted it as concern.

"Okay. I love you."

"I love you too."

I took a taxi. The venue was a hotel. My friends had rented a private room.

Lights. Music. Laughter. It all enveloped me the moment I walked in.

"To Ania and her future with the most eligible bachelor!" one of them shouted.

We toasted.

My glass was refilled. And again.

"Tonight is for enjoying," they told me. "No thinking."

Then several men walked in, nearly naked. The room erupted in screams and laughter. My phone buzzed, but someone snatched it from my hand.

"Not today," they said. "Today you're free."

I drank more than I should have.

Time began to blur.

The heat hit me all at once. My skin burned.

The air felt heavy.

I stood up looking for the bathroom, but the hallway seemed to shift beneath me.

I entered an open room and went straight to the bathroom. I sat down. I breathed.

I splashed water on my face.

It didn't help.

The voices outside blended with the music. I kicked off my heels. The dizziness worsened.

I came out, but a wave of nausea forced me back. I threw up. I tried to clean myself up. I wanted to call for help... but my tongue wouldn't respond.

Then, a couch.

A strange weight pressing down on my body.

My mind screamed at me to move, to run.

My body didn't respond.

The darkness fell over me.

That was the last thing I remembered before everything went black.

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