Hurry Up, Get Happy (a Beetlejuice: the Musical Fanfiction)

Signs Of Depression

"Adam?" Barbara asked as she entered the attic. "Have you seen Lydia anywhere? I'd like to talk to her."

Adam looked up, putting a stop to working on his model of the town. "Last I checked," he said, "she went up to the roof."

"Did she tell you why?"

"No." Adam shook his head. "I asked her and all she did was stay quiet. She did look down though."

"Well," Barbara said as she moved over towards the window that led out onto the roof and opened it. "I'm going to go out there and make sure she's okay." With that, Barbara climbed out onto the roof.

"Good luck, dear," Adam said, going back to working on his model.

"Lydia?!" Barbara called out. "Are you up here?"

She found the teenager sitting on top of the railing surrounding the edge of the roof, her head resting on top of her knees. Her arms were wrapped around her knees and her eyes were focused on the ground below.

Adam was right. She did look down.

Barbara wondered what was going on.

"Lydia?!" Barbara called out again, this time grabbing the teenager's attention. "Is everything okay?"

Lydia turned towards her. "Go away, Barbara."

But Barbara decided against that, instead choosing to lean against the railing right next to Lydia. "I'll ask you this again: is everything okay?"

"Everything's fine!" Lydia spat.

"I can tell something's wrong," Barbara said.

Barbara placed an ice cold hand on Lydia's back and the teenager flinched at the contact, pulling away from her and nearly falling off of the railing. She was lucky Barbara used her ghost powers to catch her in time.

"Why don't you talk to Delia about whatever it is," Barbara continued, placing Lydia down away from the railing. "I'm sure she'll be happy to help you."

"I don't need her help!" Lydia spat as she made her way over to the window and crawled back inside.

Barbara sighed, following Lydia back in. She made sure to have a conversation with Delia about Lydia when she had the time.

Barbara found Delia in the latter's bedroom, sewing one of Lydia's dresses that had torn a week ago. Lydia's former Life Coach sensed Barbara's presence in the room and made to finish sewing before she turned her attention onto the female ghost.

"Is something the matter, Barbara?" Delia asked, calmly.

Barbara floated further into the room, sitting herself down next to Delia on top of the bed the latter shared with Charles. "Yeah," she said. "It's about Lydia."

"What about her?"

"Well." Barbara looked to the side. "I found her sitting on top of the railing at the edge of the roof this morning. She looked a little down. I was wondering if you could perhaps talk to her?"

"I can try," was all Delia said.

"Great." Barbara nodded and left the room.

Lydia sat with her dad in the latter's office, a photo book open to a random page lay down on the floor in front of them. Charles pointed to a random picture.

"Do you remember this?" Charles asked his daughter.

Lydia nodded. "Was that the time dead mom threw a sheet over her head and pretended to be a ghost to joke around with us?"

"Yep." Charles nodded as well. "It was so funny I had to take a picture." He was about to point out another memory when Delia poked her head into his office.

"Sorry to interrupt this touching moment," Delia said in apology. "But is there a particular reason why you're feeling down, Lydia?"

"I thought I told Barbara I didn't want to talk to you about this!" Lydia spat, exiting her dad's office and stomping upstairs to her bedroom. Tucked under her arm was one of the photo albums containing pictures of her, her dad, and her dead mom back when they lived in New York City.

The Deetz couple looked at one another and sighed in unison. They'd leave Lydia alone for now and, hopefully, so would the Maitlands.

But that didn't last long.

Barbara knocked on Lydia's bedroom door and all she got from the teenager was a grumbled, "go away!"

"Lydia, I just want to talk." She phased through Lydia's locked bedroom door and sat herself down next to Lydia on the latter's bed.

Lydia just turned away from her. "There's nothing to talk about, Barb."

"Come on, Lydia. Please?"

Lydia sighed. "Oh alright...one year ago today, my mom died from cancer."