I was dead but I couldn't leave. All I ever wanted was to see my son happy and to die two days before his wedding, the invitation clutched in my hand, was the cruellest trick of all. My spirit lingered in torment. And then I heard it, the chime of wedding bells calling me.

There's a reason weddings take place on consecrated ground, a place where spirits cannot reach. The c when a woman truly opens herself up to the world, heart and soul. She's a vulnerable target. But I was already invited. My spirit entered freely into the church.

Immediately I felt her, an open vessel, drawing me in like a powerful current. I entered her, our spirits warring briefly, her eyes flickering beneath the wedding veil.

Slowly I become aware of the world of the living once again, of my soft, feminine body wrapped in white satin and lace, of the hundreds of faces watching me from the pews, and of my son standing before me at the altar.On the edge of my awareness, I sense the expelled spirit grasping at me, struggling to re-enter its rightful body.

The priest clears his throat lightly and repeats himself a little louder.

"Do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?" he asks me.

"I..." I stammer. My son is looking at me expectantly, nervously. All I ever wanted was for him to be happy. "I do."

The room breaths a collective sigh of relief that just about masks the ghostly wail of Chloe's spirit being dragged to the beyond.

"You may now kiss the bride."