Unequivocal No

Authoress: Wee-Me

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Betel, Lydia, or the portrayal of either from the movie. Don't sue me, I don't profit from this save for the joy of reviews.

PSEUDO-WARNING: Not a big deal I don't think, but this sort of mocks Lydia's emo tendencies in the movie and mentions cutting in passing. If that bothers you this is not the chapter for you.

Part One: Not a Chance Little Goth Girl

"Beetle-juice, Beetle-juice, Beetle-juice."

It had taken a lot of courage for Lydia to make the call, but she knew it was what she needed. She waited for the flashy poltergeist to show. She fiddled with the hem of her shirt. Twiddled her thumbs. Adjusted her veil. She straightened her bed. Ten minutes had passed. She flopped down at her desk chair in a huff. She sat dejectedly among her occult treasures- tarot decks, Ouija boards, various runes, and other bits she thought looked macabre- and opened up her laptop to write some angsty poetry and blog out her frustration.

"Where is he?" she asked aloud after typing for several moments. She was sure all her poems were gems. Also that she was going to be a big star because, even if people didn't appreciate her work in life (at all), after her death they'd sell like hotcakes.

She noticed new text on the page. It said: Not there.

"Why not?" she whined.

Not worth my time girlie.

"But I'm ready to go with you now. To the other side. I'll marry you if that's what it takes."

Sorry kid, proposal was a onetime offer. And I'm no tour guide. Now run along and be sad on someone else's time, I got stuff to do.

"So you won't help me?"

After what happened last time? That's a big N-O. If you need help go to therapy. I hear kids like you who cut themselves get attention. Now leave me alone.

"But I need you. This isn't where I belong. I'm stifled here and no one appreciates me. Help me."

Too bad, but since it's not my problem and I don't care the answer stays no. Thanks for the laugh though.

He was gone then, the blinking cursor mocking her, and no amount of calling, pleading, or begging brought him back.

End: Part One

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Another drabble set only related by theme, seems to be my thing at the moment. Nope this isn't a Betel plus Lydia equals true love fic, I may try that again another day. Writing whiney Lydia was fun if only because she got shot down so thoroughly.