Somebody's on the Roof (Beetlejuice fanfic)

Shadow

"Lydia, darling, you look miserable."
Lydia glared up at Delia from her spot at the kitchen table. She had her head resting on her palm, struggling to keep her eyes open.
"Couldn't sleep," she replied, shrugging. "New place."
It wasn't a complete lie. The new place had been making her feel uncomfortable. However, she had been too immersed in exploring the house and taking photos to go to sleep. The upstairs hallway made for a great shot, especially since it was lit by a single dim bulb hanging on by a thread. The whole house would make for a great series of creepy photos.
"Will you be alright to go to school?"
"I'm pretty sure I have to. I told them I'd be coming in today."
"Well, they'll go easy on you." She put on one of her 'I'm about to go on a long rant' smiles. "All you have to do is act positive and keep a smile on your face. Everyone will want to talk to you then!" She suddenly stood up. "Oh! Let me give you this." She rushed over to the closet and opened the door, rifling through all of her crystals.
"I don't need to be life coached right now, Delia," Lydia said, standing up to put her half-eaten bowl of cereal away. She was not in the mood, and she didn't care if that hurt Delia's feelings.
Delia, however, refused to be phased. She walked over to Lydia and placed a black crystal in her hand. It had jagged vertical lines on it, almost resembling a tree trunk. "I figured it'd go well with your...style," she said, winking. "It gets rid of negative energy." She had that twinkle in her eye that appeared any time she brought up her crystals.
Lydia was too tired to object. "Thanks, Delia." She set her bowl down and stuffed the crystal into the pocket of her dress. "I'll need it."
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Declining an escort around her new school was one of the worst decisions Lydia had ever made.
The school was so much bigger than her old one, and the completely random placement of the rooms didn't make things easier. Why the hell was Room 115 right next to Room 218? Nothing made any sense. Luckily, her 'new girl' reputation softened the punishment for being late to most of her classes. There was no way in Hell she was getting detention on her first day.
She felt eyes on her as she walked through the halls, but as soon as she looked up, everyone seemed way too intrigued by the books in their hands. She would rather have them openly stare. At least then they wouldn't pity her. Oh well, she thought. They were the least of her concerns. She'd have time for people later.
However, while walking to sixth period, she passed by a cluster of girls who looked at her in complete disgust. She rolled her eyes and walked right by them, but she then heard one of them call after her.
"Did I miss the news about a funeral?"
Lydia swiveled around. "Come on, man, really?" She said, hugging her books tightly against her chest. If they were going to shit on her, they should at least be original.
The tallest girl raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, really," she said, looking Lydia up and down. The rest of the group looked surprised that she had even dared to speak up. "You look like a grieving housewife. Was the lace really necessary? And the safety pins?" She giggled. Her voice was nasally enough to make Lydia want to flinch.
"We all have styles. I have to go." Lydia turned to walk away.
"At least my style doesn't look like a disaster," the girl continued.
"Claire.." Another voice in the group piped up.
"Shut it." Claire whipped her head around to scold the person, then turned her attention back to Lydia and smiled sweetly. "How about you get a little makeover, and then you can try talking back to me again?"
Lydia opened her mouth to speak, but the warning bell rung for the next period. Claire waved.
"Bye, sweetie," she said, turning on her heel and leading the rest of the girls away. Lydia sighed.
"So much for keeping away negative energy," she mumbled, taking the crystal out of her pocket. She contemplated throwing it out, but that would destroy Delia. She wasn't ready to be scolded by her father for hurting her feelings.
She shook her head and made her way to class.
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Lydia was startled awake by a loud crash coming from the kitchen.
A lot of thoughts raced through her head. She wanted to go down there and see what the ruckus was about, but her instincts told her not to. What if it was an intruder?
She heard the loud thumping of her father's footsteps running into the kitchen. She sighed in relief. If there was someone in the house, her father would take care of it.
Suddenly, she heard him cry out. "Emily!" He yelled, the sound echoing throughout the house. Lydia froze. Her mother.
She then sprung into action, throwing herself out of bed and sprinting down to the kitchen. She had to make sure that everything would be fine. She probably just fell, she hoped. The world wasn't about to come crashing down; everything would be just fine in a couple minutes, she hoped.
She hoped, she hoped...
She peeked into the doorway of the kitchen. Her father looked up at her, tears streaming down his face.
In his arms he held Lydia's mother, unmoving.
Then Lydia woke up again.
She gasped out loud, sitting up as quickly as she could and feeling the blankets around her for comfort. Her heart beat harder than it had in months.
After a couple breaths, she tried to compose herself. She was still in the new house. It was just a dream, just a memory of what had happened that night; yet the dream was so vivid that she always felt like she was there. She always felt like she was twelve years old again, seeing everything happen right before her eyes. She rubbed her forehead.
A sudden movement in the corner of her dark bedroom grabbed her attention. There was a tall shadow there, dancing across the walls. It contorted and stretched, growing all the way to the ceiling and then back down again. She squinted to make sure she wasn't seeing things.
Sure enough, it was still there. But it was more than a shadow- it almost took a three dimensional form.
"Are you a spirit?" Lydia whispered, slowly inching her hand towards her camera on her nightstand. "I won't hurt you if you are."
The shadow stopped moving. Lydia silently grabbed the camera. She put her hands into place.
"I'm sorry we moved into your home," she said, aiming the lens at the figure. "Maybe we can.."
She snapped the picture, the camera lighting up the room. They shadow fled, separating into many pieces and scurrying across the walls until it was gone, almost like it had never been there.
The picture slowly printed, and Lydia placed it gently on her nightstand. She'd know for sure what she'd seen after it developed.
Too afraid to go back to sleep, she picked up one of her books and read for the rest of the night.