Here's the introductory chapter of my first multi-chapter story. Please R&R and let me know what you think of it, and if I should continue or not.
Disclaimer: I do not own, nor do I claim to own, the Addams Family in any of it's forms
The young girl smoothed out the sheer material of her veil and gave her mother a nervous look. The mother returned it with an encouraging smile. To an outsider, it may look at though they were attending a funeral- the girl in a black dress, with long sheer sleeves and matching veil, clutching a bouquet of black roses (much to the dismay of her mother, who was resisting the urge to tear the heads off those beautiful thorny stems), and the mother in an elegant, formfitting black dress that fell to the ground, spider-like tendrils circling her feet. But of course, to an insider, they were dressed for a wedding.
"Wednesday, you look beautiful," Morticia said with a happy sigh.
"Thank you, mother," Wednesday looked up, her large brown eyes clearly anxious with anticipation. "Mother? Were you this nervous when you married Father?"
Morticia paused before answering, lightly sucking her finger tip in thought, "I may have been. I was mostly nervous that my sister, Ophelia, was going to marry him."
"Oh yeah," Wednesday clearly remembered the story of her father's betrothal to her mother.
Speaking of the devil, with a soft knock on the door, in walked her father.
"Paloma, you look beautiful!" he exclaimed.
"That's what mother said," Wednesday replied, her way of accepting the compliment.
"Oh, Gomez, can you believe our little girl is getting married?" Morticia asked, taking her husband's hand.
Gomez snaked his other arm around his wife's waist, "It seems like only yesterday she was torturing her brother, and burning ants with a magnifying glass."
"Gomez," Morticia looked at him curiously. "That was yesterday."
"So it was," Gomez smiled at his daughter. "Are you ready, Paloma? They're all waiting for you out there."
Wednesday took in a deep breath and then nodded. Morticia walked forward, lightly kissing her daughter on the forehead.
"I'll get on out there then," she said. "I hope you'll be as unhappy as we."
"Thank you, Mother," Wednesday replied.
Morticia swept elegantly through the doorway and out into the graveyard. A few moments later a harpsichord struck up, sending out the opening strains of a Funeral March. Gomez offered his arms to his daughter, which she took, and the two left the room, beginning their walk down the aisle, to meet Wednesday's intended.
Watching from her seat in the front row, Morticia felt a tear run down her cheek. Her little girl was growing up, and she could hardly believe it.