I sit here waiting for him to marry me after all of these years. He will come, you will see. My bridal party and all of the guests have left, from the world before and this next. Even the priest could not display the level of patience I have, everyone is gone. Still, any moment he will walk down that isle ready to wed me with a full heart. Soon I will leave this overgrown grave, and will no longer be mocked by the teenagers who come to mock the forgotten bride. Who will they have to torment after I leave? Not I! I will be long gone from here and they will be the fools then. I wonder where he will take me for our honeymoon?