I was a typical college student, struggling to make ends meet and trying to stay afloat in a sea of student loan debt. My parents had immigrated to the United States from China when I was a child, and like many first-generation immigrants, they had sacrificed so much to give me the opportunity to go to college. But even with their support, I still found myself struggling to keep up with the high cost of tuition and living expenses. I had to work multiple part-time jobs just to get by, and even then, it was a struggle.
But then, one day, a friend of mine came to me with a proposition. She told me that her aunt was a traditional Chinese matchmaker, and she had a client who was looking for someone to marry a “ghost bride.” I had heard of the concept before - it was an old tradition where, when a woman died before getting married, her family would find a man to marry her in death, lifting the shame of being husbandless for eternity. It was a bizarre, almost superstitious idea, and I initially said no, thinking it was silly and that my parents wouldn’t be happy about it.
“Jin, please, just hear her out,” my friend pleaded. “She’s offering a lot of money. It could really help you out with your tuition and bills.”
I was torn. The idea of marrying a ghost seemed absurd. But I desperately needed the money. I agreed to meet with the matchmaker. She was an elderly woman with a kind face and a gentle demeanor. She was dressed in a red silk qipao, a traditional Chinese dress, and her graying hair was pulled back into a bun. She greeted me with a warm smile and invited me to sit down.
“I’m glad you’ve decided to consider my proposal,” she said, her voice soft and soothing. “I understand that this may seem strange to you, but it is an ancient tradition that has been passed down for generations. It is a way to honor the spirit of the deceased and bring peace to her family.”
I nodded, still feeling a bit skeptical. “I’m just not sure if I’m comfortable with the idea of marrying a ghost,” I admitted.
The matchmaker nodded sympathetically. “I understand your hesitation. It can be a difficult concept to wrap your head around. But let me assure you, this is not a real marriage. It is simply a symbolic gesture to honor the deceased and lift the burden of shame from her family. You are not expected to have any physical or emotional connection to the ghost bride.”
She reached into her desk and pulled out a check, sliding it across the table towards me. I gasped when I saw the amount. It was more than enough to cover all of my tuition and living expenses for the rest of the year.
“In return for your help, you will receive this generous sum as a token of appreciation for your role in this tradition,” the matchmaker said with a twinkle in her eye. “It is a small price to pay for the opportunity to bring peace and honor to the spirit of the deceased.”
I stared at the check, my mind racing. The matchmaker’s words were persuasive. Anway, I didn’t believe in ghosts, and I figured it would be a quick, easy way to make some much-needed cash. I decided to accept the proposal right there.
The day of the ceremony had finally arrived. As I stood at the altar, surrounded by the smell of incense and the sound of chanting, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of dread wash over me. The wedding ceremony was taking place in a small, dimly-lit temple, filled with the pictures of the bride’s ancestors, all of whom seemed to be staring at me with disapproving glares.
The bride’s family was in attendance, huddled together in the front row. They were a wealthy, traditional Chinese family, and I could tell they weren’t thrilled about the idea of their daughter being married off to a stranger. But they had agreed to the arrangement in order to lift the burden of shame from their daughter’s ghost, and they were going through with the ceremony with grim determination.
The priest was an old, wizened man, who looked like he’d seen a thing or two in his time. He was officiating the ceremony with a mixture of reverence and skepticism, as if he wasn’t sure whether to take the whole thing seriously or not. The matchmaker was there as well and was probably the only one who looked perfectly at ease.
The ghost bride was represented by an effigy made of bamboo, adorned with real clothing and fake jewelry. As for me, I was standing at the altar, feeling like I’d made a terrible mistake. I had agreed to this arrangement for the money, but now, as I stood there, about to marry a dead woman I’d never previously met, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d made a deal with the devil. But it was too late and I repeated my vows as instructed. The priest placed the bride’s ancestral tablet inside the effigy to animate her spirit. As the ceremony came to a close, the effigy was fed the wedding feast. In a final, terrifying act, the effigy was burned to be sent to the spirit world.
The next few days after the wedding were no different than before. If anything, I slept better with the peace of mind that my full year’s tuition was accounted for. But the calm didn’t last long. One morning, I woke up to find that the objects in my room were in different places than where I left them the night before. At first, I brushed it off as the result of my forgetful mind, but as the days passed, I started to feel a creeping sense of unease. Every night, I was visited in my dreams by a ghostly figure - a bride, dressed in red and translucent as fog. I tried to tell myself that it was just my imagination playing tricks on me, but the dreams felt too real, too vivid.
I had always thought of ghosts as nothing more than a creation of overactive imaginations and superstitious minds. But as the ghost bride became more and more aggressive, appearing to me in terrifying visions that left me feeling drained and terrified when I woke up, I couldn’t help but wonder if there might be something more to it. Maybe it was my guilt and insecurity getting the better of me. After all, I had married a ghost bride for the money. Maybe my subconscious was punishing me for it, I reasoned.
I tried to avoid sleeping as much as possible, but eventually, exhaustion took over and I drifted off into a restless sleep, praying that this time, the ghost bride wouldn’t appear in my dreams. But she always did. Every time she visited me in a nightmare, I woke up in a panic, my heart racing and my breath coming in short gasps. I couldn’t stay in the room with her, so I ran out onto the balcony, seeking refuge in the cool night air. I stayed out there for hours, staring up at the stars and trying to clear my mind of the terror that the ghost bride’s image had inflicted upon me in my dreams.
The sleepless nights were taking their toll on me. I was tired all the time, and it was affecting my ability to concentrate in class. I knew I couldn’t keep this up forever. Sooner or later, I was going to have to face my fear head on and find a way to banish her from my dreams once and for all. But I didn’t know how. I didn’t know where to start. All I knew was that I couldn’t keep running forever. Eventually, I was going to have to stand my ground and fight back.
But the ghost bride had other plans.
I was lying in bed one night, my eyes closed as I tried to get some rest. It had been a long, difficult day, and all I wanted to do was escape into the peaceful oblivion of sleep. But just as I was starting to drift off, I felt a sudden chill sweep through the room. My eyes snapped open, and I saw her - the ghost bride, standing at the foot of my bed.
Her pale, translucent skin was stretched tightly over her bones, giving her a gaunt, skeletal appearance. Her red wedding dress was torn and tattered, hanging off her thin frame like cobwebs. And her eyes - oh, her hazel eyes. They were cold and empty, staring right into my soul.
I couldn’t move. I was frozen in place, my heart racing in my chest as I stared at the ghost bride. She didn’t say anything at first, just stood there, watching me with that empty gaze. But then, she opened her mouth and spoke, her voice a whisper that sent shivers down my spine. “You should have never married me,” she said. “You don’t belong to me. You never will.”
I was terrified. I could feel the fear coursing through my veins, making my hands shake and my heart race. I wanted to run, to escape this nightmare and never look back. But I couldn’t. My body wouldn’t cooperate. I was trapped, unable to move as the ghost bride stood there, watching me with those cold, empty eyes.
And then, she disappeared, melting away into the darkness like a wisp of smoke. I was left alone, trembling and terrified, wondering what this all meant. What did the ghost bride want from me? Why was she haunting me like this? And most importantly, how could I make it stop? I couldn’t go on like this, with the ghost bride terrorizing me every night. So, I decided to do some research and try to find a way to exorcise her from my life.
I started by reaching out to a local spiritualist, a woman who claimed to have experience with exorcisms. She listened to my story with a skeptical expression on her face, and then shook her head. “I’m sorry, but this is beyond my abilities,” she said. “You’ve made a deal with the ancestors, and there’s no easy way out of it.”
I tried other alternatives, seeking out ancient rituals and seeking the advice of traditional healers, but none of them seemed to be able to help me. It was like I was trapped in this nightmare, with no way out.
As the days went by, her visits became more frequent and I started to feel like I was losing my mind. I tried to ignore her, but it was impossible when she was standing right in front of me, asking me what I liked about her or why I married her. My body shook uncontrollably every time she appeared. Cold sweats drenched my body and my scalp felt red hot as the fear took over. Paranoia and anxiety gripped me as I struggled to maintain any sense of normalcy. I lashed out at those around me, snapping at friends for no reason. I became isolated and distant, trapped in this cycle of fear and desperation.
I was on the brink of losing my mind completely. I couldn’t sleep, eat, or function properly. I was trapped in this endless cycle of terror, and I could only hope that somehow, I’d find a way to escape the ghost’s grasp and return to a normal life.
-——–
I was at my wit’s end, desperate for a way out. And then, one day, I stumbled upon an old, dusty tome in the library, filled with ancient rituals and spells. I wasn’t sure if it would work, but I was willing to try anything at this point.
As I started to read through the book, I realized that many of the rituals were designed to appease the spirits, rather than banish them. And that’s when I got an idea. Maybe, instead of trying to exorcise the ghost bride, I could try to appease her, to find a way to make her happy.
I spent the next few days researching the ghost bride’s family and their customs, trying to find a way to honor her and show her respect. I discovered that they were a traditional Chinese family, and that they placed a great emphasis on ancestor worship and the importance of maintaining harmony in the family.
With this information in mind, I set to work preparing a series of offerings and prayers that I hoped would appease the ghost bride. I started by setting up a small altar in my room, placing a photograph of the ghost bride in a prominent position. Then, I gathered some of her favorite foods – pineapples and mangoes – and drinks and placed them on the altar as offerings.
Next, I lit some incense and recited a series of prayers, asking the ancestors to accept my offerings and to bless the ghost bride with peace and happiness. As I spoke the words, I could feel the ghost bride’s presence in the room, watching me with those cold, empty eyes. But instead of feeling terrified, I felt a sense of peace wash over me. The ghost bride’s presence slowly faded.
I was exhausted but exhilarated, and as I collapsed into bed, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of accomplishment wash over me. I’d found a way to appease the ghost bride.
As the days went by, I started to feel a sense of hope and optimism that I hadn’t felt in a long time. The ghost bride’s haunting had become infrequent, and I felt like I was making progress in finding a way to live peacefully with her.
And then, something else happened that started to brighten my days. I met a woman, and we hit it off right away. Her name was Mia, and she was smart, funny, and had beautiful brown eyes. We met in one of my classes at college. We found ourselves sitting next to each other in a seminar on Chinese folklore. We bonded over our shared fascination with Eastern mythology. We started spending more and more time together, and before I knew it, I found myself falling for her.
But there was one big problem. I couldn’t tell Mia about the ghost bride. I was embarrassed and ashamed of what I’d done for money, and I was afraid she’d judge me if she found out. So, I started making excuses to avoid having her visit my apartment. I told her I had a roommate who was always home, or that I was a neat freak and I didn’t want her to see the mess I’d made.
Mia was understanding, but I could tell she was starting to get a little suspicious. I felt guilty for keeping this secret from her, but I just didn’t know how to tell her the truth.
I was stuck in this predicament, torn between my feelings for Mia and my fear of what would happen if I told her the truth. I knew I needed to find a way to come clean, but I wasn’t sure how to do it without risking everything. Every time I thought about introducing her to my ghost bride saga, my stomach would twist into knots. In the end, my fear won out, and I kept my secret hidden from her, hoping that somehow everything would work out in the end.
Over time, the ghost bride’s haunting had almost stopped, and I made progress in my relationship with Mia. I felt ready to move on to a new life with Mia.
But just when I thought things were starting to look up, everything fell apart.
It started with a series of strange events that could only be attributed to the ghost bride. Things went missing from my apartment, and I started to feel like I was being watched. And then, one night, the ghost bride decided to visit me again. I was in bed, trying to get some rest, when I felt a cold gust of wind sweep through my room. I opened my eyes and saw the ghost bride standing at the foot of my bed, her pale, translucent form barely visible in the darkness.
She didn’t say anything at first, just stared at me with those cold, empty eyes. But then, she opened her mouth and spoke, her voice a whisper that sent shivers down my spine. “You thought you could escape me,” she said. “But you were wrong. You will never be free of me.”
I could sense a new jealousy and anger in her voice, and I realized that she was upset about my relationship with Mia. “You shouldn’t be with her,” the ghost bride said. “You belong to me. You always will.”
I had reached the end of my rope. I didn’t know how much longer I could go on like this, with the ghost bride haunting me and threatening to tear apart my relationship with Mia. I was starting to think the only way to put an end to this nightmare was to leave everything behind and start over. I knew I had to also come clean to Mia and tell her everything. It was the only way to move on and start a new life together.
“Mia,” I said, my voice shaking as I finally gathered the courage to confess. “There’s something I need to tell you. I’ve been keeping a secret from you, and I’m sorry. I married a ghost bride for the money, and I’ve been haunted by her ever since.” I went on to tell her everything about my wedding with the ghost bride and my life since then.
Mia’s eyes widened in shock, but to my surprise, she didn’t pull away from me. “Jin, that’s a lot to take in,” she said, taking my hand in hers. “But I’m here for you. We’ll figure out a way to deal with this together.”
I felt a weight lifted off my shoulders. With Mia by my side, I felt like I could find a way to put an end to this haunting once and for all.
“I’ve been thinking,” I said, my voice steady now. “I think we should leave town and start over somewhere new. It’s the only way we can escape the past and move on.”
To my surprise, Mia was onboard. She had been feeling suffocated and trapped in her old life, and she was ready for a change too. We talked about our dreams and our plans for the future, and we felt like we were on the cusp of something special. We decided to sell everything we owned and set off on a road trip, determined to leave the past behind and start anew.
-——–
As we drove through the darkness, Mia by my side, leisurely munching on some fruit, we experienced a sense of freedom and possibility that had eluded us for quite some time.
But then, just when I thought everything was falling into place, my phone rang. It was the police, and they were telling me that there had been a break-in at Mia’s house. “We’ve found a body, and we need you to come down to the station to identify it. A neighbor gave us your phone number.”
I was in shock as I listened to the police officer’s voice on the other end of the line. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. A break-in? A body? Whose body? It didn’t make any sense. I was there just an hour ago. I was terrified, and I didn’t know what to do.
I had no idea what I was going to find when I got there. I turned to Mia, trying to gauge her reaction, but something was off. Her eyes looked different, almost hazel, and the warmth on her face was replaced by a cold, expressionless look. She put her bag of sliced pineapples down and took my phone from my hands and turned it off. Then, she looked at me and smiled.