Somebody's on the Roof (Beetlejuice fanfic)

Spider

I've recently become obsessed with this musical so I hope you guys enjoy me dumping my interest onto you with a fanfic!!! Enjoy!!
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"I'm trying to help you."
Lydia crouched down at the windowsill, her pale face inches away from a tiny black spider. She held out a paper towel, trying to coerce the spider onto it. "C'mon, cooperate with me, lil' buddy," she said, pushing the towel slightly forward. Finally, the spider obliged. Lydia rushed for the back door and carefully set the bug outside. She watched it quickly scuttle away, smiling with pride as she turned around and walked back in.
"Lydia, darling, are we having a spider problem?" Lydia's 'life coach', Delia, waltzed into the room, automatically causing Lydia to frown. "I've told Charles to call someone.."
"I'd hardly call it a problem," Lydia replied. She balled up the paper towel and threw it away. "I like them. They're so tiny."
"You know, usually young women your age are not too fond of spiders." Delia made her way to the closet, where she was in the process of unboxing and organizing all her crystals. She had carefully wrapped all of them in tissue paper and aligned them neatly in the box before they moved, and she insisted on being the only person to carry the box. Lydia understood having a special hobby or interest, but the amount of crystals Delia owned was ungodly. She would take up at least the whole closet, no doubt.
"Well, young women my age also don't have to move into houses from a horror novel." She gestured to the dark, weathered floorboards and the cracks between the window frames and the walls. "This place is a dump."
Delia stood. She had a pitying look on her face that only worsened Lydia's mood. "Don't worry about this place. Your father loves it, and I'm sure you will too. The improvements we're about to do will make it all worth it."
"You sure are making yourself comfortable, for someone who technically doesn't even live here."
Delia glanced over at her crystals. "Yes, well..it's unhealthy for these to be packed together in the wrong environment. Bad energy. You understand." She knelt back down and scooped out another handful.
"Lydia! Your boxes are all up here! Come unpack!" Her father's booming voice called to her from across the house. Lydia sighed.
"Coming!" She glanced once more at Delia, whose easygoing look had wavered just a bit. She walked right past her and towards the stairs.
The house was old, and it hadn't aged well. This was apparent in almost every aspect- the floors creaked with every step, the appliances were outdated and out of shape, and it didn't have proper insulation. Every room had an inescapable draft that even the thickest covers couldn't cure. Being thin as a stick, Lydia couldn't handle the cold that well. Shivering, she took in the peeling wallpaper and misaligned wood on the stairs as she walked. She stayed extra alert, in fear that the floor was going to break right under her feet.
She thought back to the house she was in just earlier today. Of course, it was nearly empty, but she could still feel all the happy memories in the air, the welcoming warmth of what she called her home. She couldn't help but feel pure contempt as she passed by the house's new inhabitants: some suburban middle class family who would create a whole new set of memories there. She hadn't said a word to her father the entire hour-long drive.
It was the final step in her father's master plan. Erase the old life. Don't look back. Never mention the past. Never mention her.
Hiring Delia had been the first step. "She'll be a good source of positivity in your life," her father had said. It sounded nice at first, but Delia's attitude was suffocating, and soon she began arriving earlier and staying later and then, before Lydia knew it, she was a permanent resident in the guest room. Wonderful.
All of the big furniture was in place in Lydia's room, but all of her trinkets had yet to be unpacked. She knelt and opened one of the boxes, making sure that none of the fragile things had been harmed. Animal skulls, candles, books, her crystal ball..everything looked to be in shape. She smiled softly as she gazed upon her things.
After sorting through the top, she caught a glimpse of a small leather bound book shoved into the corner of the box. Of course- her diary. She had kept it hidden at the bottom just in case the box fell open. She opened it up, the spine crackling as she did so.
Inside were pictures of her mother. Her mother smiling, cooking, focusing on a book..Lydia captured her in every small moment she could after she got sick. She was too afraid of losing the memory.
Lydia studied her mother's smiling face, the similarities the two of them held. Their matching eyes, lips, the raven hair that tumbled down both of their shoulders- at least, until her mother lost hers.
She should have acted faster.
Lydia shook her head, closing the diary and placing it on one of her shelves. She made sure it was wedged tightly between other books, just so her father wouldn't find it.
His plan was no match for her.
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"Put it outside!"
Lydia smirked to herself. Delia had pressed herself against the wall in a desperate attempt to get away from the little spider crawling on the kitchen floor. She was so tempted to throw the paper towel, to launch the spider right at Delia's pretty little face. Instead, she brought it to the back door like she had done four other times that day. Throwing it would be an insult to the spider.
Delia sighed in relief, her shoulders relaxing. "That's it. Either he calls someone or I'm out!" She laughed nervously, wringing her hands. "I can't handle those things."
"They're not that bad!" Lydia crossed her arms. Delia was so high maintenance sometimes.
"Sure, they're tiny, but what about when hundreds of them join to form a little spider army?" Delia shuddered, turning back to the food she was preparing on the stove. "No, thank you."
Lydia rolled her eyes and sat down at the table, where her father was flipping through a stack of papers. "Dad, you should probably call someone about the spiders before Delia has an aneurysm," she muttered to him. He just shook his head.
"If you saw the numbers on these papers, spiders would be the last thing on your mind," he replied. "I need a break."
Lydia saw this as an opportunity. "We could go back to those stores we loved so much. Remember, the ones where Mom bought so much fudge we were stocked for a month?" She smiled.
"Maybe sometime soon, honey," he interrupted. "I've got a lot to do. Those are a much father drive now anyway."
Dejected, Lydia sighed. She had forgotten where she was for a second. "Okay."
She should have known what to expect at this point.