Director Skye Charlton
By Director Skye Charlton
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“Just the thought of sleeping with that fat pig makes me sick.” My future son-in-law, Ethan, said it like he was talking about the weather. His friends laughed. Like it was nothing. The sound of that laughter. It still rings in my ears, even now. More than his actual words, really. Because the woman he was talking about, the ‘fat pig,’ was my daughter, Carol. My kind, loyal, trusting daughter, who was supposed to marry him in less than twelve hours.

I remember just standing there staring because my brain genuinely stopped working for a second. This wedding. All of it. The place cards. The dress. The dreams. All of it. And him. Saying that. Out loud.

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