Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice

Chapter Two: "Lydia Deetz, 1990"

  The drive to Winter River was a long one. the girls were irritable and Lydia was so tired she almost fell asleep at the wheel. 
  By the time they arrived the sun was low in the sky and not one of them had the energy to help the removal man shift the last of their belongings into their new home. but all three resolutely soldiered on until everything was just so. Even little Beth chipped in as best she could.
  By eleven o'clock the mother and daughter trio had fallen asleep together on the sofa, having not had the strength to make it to their bedrooms.
  At midnight Lydia was awoken by the chiming of the grandfather clock, a Kirke family heirloom, standing inches from her head. her girls did not stir, both continuing to sleep like the dead. The dead! Of course! She had been too tired to think of anything else after the move but now Lydia's mind buzzed with thoughts of Barbara and Adam.
In a moment she was on her feet, pulling one of her husband's old, grey cardigans across her shoulders to stave off the October chill.
  Now that she was alone Lydia had to chance to look around properly. Much was as it had been back in the eighties and nineties. as far as she knew, only one other resident had lived in the house after her family and he had died only five years later. since then it had remained empty. Well mostly. Lydia was sure Barbara and Adam had kept the place somewhat lively in her absence.
  She peeped into one of the house's pokier rooms and smiled, remembering how much time she'd spent there in her adolescence. It had been her bedroom and now it was Beth's.
  During the move nothing had been taken to or from the attic, Lydia made sure all miscellaneous items were put in the study for her to sort out in the morning. So when she found the stairs to the attic door coated in a thick layer of dust she was hardly surprised. 
The dust had been disturbed in placed, shifted by the air that filled the house as it breathed life for the first time in nearly two decades. 
 The stairs groaned a little under her weight as she made her way towards the narrow wooden door at the top. Putting her hand on the handle Lydia took in a lungful of stagnant air and exhaled with a little sigh. She didn't want to spend time speculating on what her eyes might see when she opened that door but she needed time to prepare.
  With a soft click Lydia turned the handle and forced open the door. it was stiff on it's hinges after years of no use, but it made no sound as it swung inwards. She fumbled around in the pitch darkness trying to find the light switch, eventually locating it by mistake when she stumbled and shot out a hand to steady herself.
The bulb above her head blinked on, illuminating the attic space with a sickly yellow light that made the whole room seem false, like a painting or a movie set.
A chill shot up Lydia's spine as her eyes took in the once familiar room. Her gaze fell straight to the wide table in the centre of the floor. It's surface was entirely covered in model houses, a perfect replica of Winter River- more specifically Winter River in the eighties.
In the centre of this tiny town was an equally tiny graveyard, in which stood a pair of wreaths with the names "Barbara and Adam" attached.
Around the table were random items of furniture all with dust sheets thrown over them, yet not a speck of dust could be found.
Above her head Lydia saw a thick wooden beam, one of many which supported the rood. it was low enough that she could reach it stood on tip toes. She stretched her arms above her head, hands moving across the surface, feeling for an indent in the wood.
"I know it's here somewhere." She murmured just as her fingers came to rest on what she had been searching for. And sure enough there it was, faded now but still legible.
"Lydia Deetz 1990" had been carved into the beam's otherwise smooth surface. She'd carved it using a chisel and a little hammer on New Years eve 1989. She even still had the scar between her thumb and forefinger from the time she'd grown complacent and careless finishing the tail of the second "9" in "1990".
  It was like being a teenager again. Everything was as it had always been. Almost. There was a slight change, a shift between the world she had once known and the one she now stood in. At first Lydia could not put her finger on what that change was, but after a moment she realised it was in the air. The air in the attic smelt stale, tasted rotten and old. No life. No presence other than her own. No Barbara and no Adam. Her heart sank. She had been so convinced they would still be here and yet... nothing.
  The grandfather clock struck one. Had she really been poking about for an hour?
  A noise in another part of the house brought Lydia out of her thoughts. A scraping and dragging noise in the room below her seeped through the floorboards and her mind race. Was it Barbara and Adam? Or was it him?
  She took off down the stairs in a frenzy, stopping short of the door to the room in question. Another minute to gather her thoughts and then- she flung open the door and it smacked the wall with a loud thud.
"Mom!" Katrina whirled around and glared at Lydia with wide eyes. "Ever heard of knocking? You scared me half to death!"
"It's one AM, what are you doing?"
"Going to bed!"
"Where's Beth?" Lydia pressed, leaning on the door frame and folding her arms.
"Still on the sofa." Katrina replied. "Go to bed, mom. You look shattered."
  Lydia did go to bed, but only after having carried Beth to her own. Sleep never came to Lydia that night. Only nagging memories of Barbara and Adam, and worst of all Beetlejuice. She fancied she saw his face several times in the darkness but put it down to her tired eyes. He was dead after all, Barbara had killed him herself. And though she was sure she was safe if she didn't say his name, a chill still ran through her, making her hair stand on end when she thought, in her drowsy state she heard his voice in her ear.