Digital art, Witness a cyborg's journey of self-discovery and independence as she navigates an arranged marriage and disaster wedding aesthetics.

A disaster cyborg wedding

Date: 7/10/2017

By MsBananaNanner

My dream starts out with me in a wedding dress driving myself to my arranged marriage. I'm mostly just chill at this point, it's raining and I'm in my hometown. It's also worth noting that I have two robotic arms (but they're really high tech so look almost like normal arms) and one robotic leg which looks more traditionally cyborg-esque. And on my one normal leg, I have a super sick tat covering my thigh that winds down to my ankle, and whoever had designed my dress had put a huge slit in it specifically to show off my tat. I arrive at my university (which isn't in my hometown) which is where the wedding is going to be. I remember wondering who my husband would be as no one had told me beforehand who it was. I trek through the halls to get to the student union that's next to all my design computer labs, and see the signs pointing to one of the classrooms giving directions to the wedding. I'm a bit disappointed that this is my wedding venue, but this being an arranged marriage and all I wasn't allowed to plan the wedding. I go into the room which is super drab and windowless. Nothing is decorated and all the computers are still there, but I try to just let it go. "I'm just early," I tell myself. "It will be finished in time for the ceremony". The guy who has planned the wedding and everything, who is one of my friend's dad, is there and he pulls me over to introduce me to my husband. The guy is someone I know from school, but I'm not attracted to him at all so I'm really disappointed. I'd always thought this guy was weird and I didn't want to be married to him. Apparently he'd said something earlier to the wedding planner, as they inform me that there's a last minute change. Instead of marrying this guy, I'll be marrying this other guy--who at least isn't weird, but I really don't know him at all. We've only spoken maybe once and just in passing. I can tell he doesn't want to marry me either, but it's too late for us to do anything about it now. My wedding planner hands me a program and a gift box, which is an Easter basket with a chocolate egg in it, and says to take the box to the fed ex down the hall. I look at the address label and see that it's going to myself. "Really?" I ask. "You're making me mail my own gift to myself on my own wedding day?" He just shrugs and tells me to go. Reluctantly I do, and after knocking all the bubble wrap and packing peanuts off the walls in the fed ex, I head back towards the student union. When I get there I decide to look at the program. The second I open it I am horrified. (Note: I'm a graphic designer irl) It is laid out like a bad 2000's newsletter. The paper is a nasty mustard green/brown. Hierarchy is non existent. They've used clip art and arbitrary text boxes. There are magenta and red gradients. Body text is blue, headings are green. EVERY FONT IS PAPYRUS. I resist the urge to throw up--I've never seen something so hideous in my life. Who cares about the arranged marriage with a guy I don't know, how can I get married, with a program like this?? I flip to the last page. There's a poem about the bride. Reading it just makes me feel worse, as it's obscenely sappy and cringe inducingly cheesy. Something about me being a beautiful flower blossoming under the sun, yadda yadda. At the end it says "written by the father of the bride." I throw it to the floor. There is absolutely no way my dad ever wrote something that terrible. I sprint down the hall, to my work offices, tears brimming in my eyes. I'm searching for my boss and my supervisor, wanting to tell them the whole story, hoping that they'll be able to think of something to get me out of this horrendous marriage. Neither of them are there, but for whatever reason there are like 30 students workers all just staring me. I wonder when they started working, I'd never seen them. I figure it must be that we were never scheduled together since this was my day off. Defeated, I run back and duck into the bathroom. I lock myself in a stall and sob on the toilet. Those programs were just so hideous. I can't go through with this. But the guests are all already on their way. My parents are coming, I can't disappoint them. My bridesmaids who I'd never met are getting ready at the mirror. They eventually hear me crying and coax me out. My makeup has run everywhere and toilet water is all over my dress. They ask what's wrong, so I try to explain. They tell me that I shouldn't do it if I don't want to. "Really?" I ask. "Won't everyone be mad that I canceled last minute?" "Who cares about them! This is the rest of your life!" They say. I'm feeling a bit better now. I know what I have to do. I sprint out of the building and down the street. I don't give a thought to the rain and mud ruining my dress, in fact I revel in it. My robot leg means I can go super fast, so no one can catch me. I am free. I am a strong independent cyborg who don't need no man.