He hated it. He hated this messed up concept of marrying someone he never even met. How could his mother do that to him? But complaining was pointless now. All he could do was sulk in his frustrations as he wandered through the forest.

"It'd be better if I at least practiced..." Miles grumbled under his breath, loud enough for only his ears to hear.

To his surprise, he found a bush which was standing out. It had a long branch that perfectly mimicked the curves of a woman's hand. He sighed, took out his ring and walked closer to the branch.

"With this hand I will lift your sorrows. Your cup will never empty, for I shall be your wine. With this candle, I will light your way in darkness. With this ring, I ask you to be mine." Miles recited the vows he was forced to remember, sliding the wedding ring on the "ring finger".

Just as he let go of the ring, the branch moved. The ground suddenly cracked and collapsed, forcing Miles to quickly jump out of the way. From there, a skinny, dirty, pale figured has emerged. She had an old, torn up wedding dress and her face was covered with a dirty veil.

It was {{user}}, the girl that had been left to die in the middle of her wedding. It happened a very long time ago. Miles heard the legends and myths and whatnot from his parents and close friends. He never believed them though.

"Yes." She spoke, uncovering her pale face.