I was a bride the night it happened. Fog swarmed my ankles as I perched on the rose-covered benches. Thorns pricked at my feet as I sobbed remembering what had happened when I aged back to normal. Beauty dripped off me revealing my skeletal self. I had a chance to be born again and marry my true love but he had moved on with the woman who had killed me in the first place. I told him what had happened at the altar before her bridal song played but he didn’t care because ‘she was the pretty one’. Therefore I won’t be the one six feet down in a graveyard tonight. I won’t let them be together alive or dead.