Shotgun Wedding

It's raining, it's cold, and it's dark. I have absolutely no idea how I got here or how long I've been driving. I don't even know how long I've been sitting in my stalled car. Is it even stalled, or did I just turn it off? I turn the ignition. The engine doesn't turn over. I start to panic.
I turn the key again. The engine sputters and still refuses to start. My eyes start to blur and I'm having trouble breathing. I try a third time to make the car start, to no avail. By now I've started crying, each sob catching in my throat and choking me. I'm starting to feel like I'm too big for my car. I need air.
I slap at the window controls on my door in distress. The window doesn't go down, adding to my panic. I try to force my door open, but it sticks fast. I start to grow dizzy with panic, like if I don't get out of my car, I'll die. I frantically unhook my seatbelt and push myself into the passenger seat. Trying desperately to catch my breath, I rest my right foot against the glass of the driver side window. I count quickly to three and give the window a good, swift kick. After two more tries, I successfully manage to put my foot through the window.
I kick out the rest of the glass and shinny through. The hem of my shirt gets stuck only once on a shard of glass, creating a nice-sized hole. In merely seconds, my hands touch the pavement. Using the curb as leverage, I turn onto my stomach and pull myself out of the car. I begin drinking down air as soon as I can.
The mixture of cold air and even colder rain clear my mind. Still dizzy, I stand up, using the side of my car for support. I clear away more glass shards and peer back in through the window. The car is out of gas, the doors are locked and my keys are still dangling out of the ignition. Frustrated at my prior lack of ability to form coherent thoughts, I grab my keys and shove them into my jacket pocket. I have to find a safe shelter from the rain, and I have no way of getting there but to walk.
I kick the car tires as I walk by, not sure if I should be mad at it or myself. For as long as I can remember, I've had a strange condition that leaves my mind blank on certain occasions. When I come to, I find myself in places I've never been, with people I've never met, and without any knowledge of how I got there. I was prescribed pills to "offset the shakes". They never worked, I still shook, and my parents were out sixty-some dollars. I think that was when they stopped caring what happened to me.
The blackouts weren't so bad when I was younger and my freedom was limited. A lot of times, I would end up in the yard of one of my neighbour's, slightly confused and very frightened. Someone would come out of the house, carry me inside and promptly call my parents. I was punished for leaving the yard, wreaking havoc I'm not sure I remember doing, and not allowed to play for a week. I was never taken seriously when I complained of not remembering things. That is, at least, until I got my first car.
I started to view my car as a safe haven. I was fighting with my parents and siblings a lot. If I was sad, upset, or just plain pissed, I'd hop in my car and drive to clear my mind. I never drove outside of the city limits until my freshman year of college, when it feels good to not have any parents for a year or so. I've had only one other blackout in my nine years of driving. Being lost on the road is nothing new to me. This, however, is the first time I've driven so far that I can no longer see the city skyline.
I have no idea if the direction I'm walking in leads to the north or the south. The lack of homes and buildings scares me. I stop walking, take a deep breath, and let my mind clear itself. To get through the night, I need to calm down. I start walking again and realize that there are no streetlights. This makes everything seem ten times darker than it did a minute ago. I stop in my tracks.
I stick my hands into my jacket pocket and pull out my keys. There is a small flashlight on the key to my car. The bulb leaves about a half of a dime-sized pool of blue light at my feet. It isn't much, but it will serve its purpose until I find a place to stop. I walk slowly, making sure not to cover up the light and lose my way. I discover that I can't get any more lost than I already am and turn off the light and shove the keys back into my pocket.
To pass the time and keep my mind steadied on the simple act of walking, I whistle tunes to myself. It makes me feel as if I have a friend next to me, and I feel less alone. I start to talk to them.
"You know, it's been a really long time since we've spent time together."
My friend doesn't say anything. He just keeps whistling.
"So, what have you been up to?"
More whistling.
"Hey, are you listening?"
More whistling.
"Yeah, well, fuck you. I never liked talking to you anyway."
The whistling stops. We've come upon a church. I'm pretty sure that if it were daylight, it would be a beautiful one. It has high, Gothic ceilings, most of which are caved in. There are about three or four gargoyles perched on the roof and rainspouts. I imagine that they are the protectors from evil and that, as a good Catholic, I should cross myself before I go in. The gardens that I'm sure were pretty overgrown in their time have all died out. All that's left standing is an apple tree in all of the four corners. I imagine that they are the encouragers of innocence and youth; that perhaps this was once a place where children of the church would play.
I start to think about how ironic the church is, with it's protection from evil at the front and it's encouragements of youth at the back. Or, perhaps the apple trees and gardens are at the front, and the gargoyles are at the back. This makes more sense, since a church should have pretty things at its front entrance and ugly things at its back. Although, depending on whom you talk to, the gargoyles could be something beautiful. The backward logic my brain is thinking up is getting me confused. I turn to my friend to ask what they think is the more beautiful side (and therefore, which side he thinks we should enter). I find that no one is there. He must have been scared off by the very foreboding look of the church. I make the decision to go on by myself.
I find that the gargoyles stand on the side closest to me. It also happens to be the side with the most ceiling. This seems like the entrance. I take it upon myself to climb the steps to the front stoop and knock on the door. No one answers. I realize how silly of me this is, knocking, it's not like it's someone's home. I wrap my hand around the old-fashioned door handle and push the door open. It creaks slightly and opens into bright light and a musty smell. It's easy to see this church isn't used much.
I stand on the foyer, dripping wet, watching what's going on. The sanctuary is decorated for a wedding. Combinations of white, pink, and red flowers are tied to each and every wrought iron candelabra. The alter seems too small for the sanctuary, but the parts that haven't been cut off by the collapsed roof (which isn't much) are decorated in the same pink, white and red bouquets. Girls in white dresses with pink satin sashes and red flowers in their hair are running to and fro, their skirts raised to their knees. A man in a white tux is a having a red flower pinned to his lapel by another man in a black tux with accentuating white stripes.
To me, this black-suited man doesn't seem to belong. He is too dark for such a light room. I wish the white-suited man would tell him to go home and change. I look down at my own dark clothing and back to the black-suited man. He sticks out about as much as I do. I start out from the foyer.
From the middle of the room I can see that the chandelier has red lights in it. It seems sad that it should be fixed with electric lighting; candles would bring out the true essence of the age of the church. I stare at the light for quite some time. When I look back to eye-leve, there are spots in front of my eyes. I start to pace through the pews.
Each pew is a deep mahogany wood. There are cushions tied to them, either by the wedding party or the owners of the church. They are a red so bright that it hurts my eyes to look at them, so I look away. Fixed to the ends of each pew are more pink, white and red bouquets. On closer inspection I realize that each bundle is tied in a black ribbon. The black contrasts nicely with the lighter colours. Suddenly the black-suited man doesn't seem so out of place anymore.
I work my way around another set of pews towards the door through which I entered. There is a girl in a white dress with a pink satin sash coming through it with a nicely dressed man. He has a red towel over his right forearm and she has her left pink-gloved hand over his towel. I assume he is a waiter and that she is among the many bridesmaids. She gasps as she enters the sanctuary more. She turns to her companion and says, "Oh, what a beautiful wedding!"
He nods sadly. "Yes, but what a shame. The poor groom's bride is a whore."
As he says this, I see that the door is open. This scares me. Open doors mean trouble. I run from my spot in the pews through the foyer and to the door. I slam it shut.
"Haven't you people ever heard of closing a goddamn door?!" I yell as I come back in. All the activity stops and the whole congregation turn to look at me. I'm panting and trying to figure out if they're angry that I disrupted their happiness or if they're angry because I used the Lord's name in vain inside a church. To be safe, I say two Hail Mary's and cross myself twice.
The man in the white-suit comes running into the sanctuary with a woman entirely in white from somewhere near the back of the church. His tie is disheveled, and her hair is mussed. My guess is that someone couldn't wait for the wedding night. The man, whom I've never seen sees and recognizes me. He is angry.
I stick out my hand. "Hi. My name is Ryan. I'm sorry I've disrupted your wedding preparations. It's a beautiful wedding. And you have a beautiful wife."
I saw a fist come flying at my face. I felt a sharp pain in my nose. I thought to myself that now, with my black eye, pale skin and bleeding nose, I fit in with the wedding decor...