The temperature was at an all-time low that night in the mostly slumbering city of Ivorybrooke, Massachusetts. Ice crystals, transparent with a hint of blue, hung from houses like slumbering bats in their dark, damp caves. Feet of white snow fell from the sky, and sparkled when it hit the ground. Feet... seven feet, to be exact.

The town of Rosewood was not busy tonight, like most of the towns in Massachusetts had been lately. Merely fourty to fifty souls were out an about this night. Not that it was a particularly large town. Only five hundred people lived there.

The sky was black, however due to the change in weather, it looked a tad purple-pink. White, puffy clouds, blending in with eachother and spilling inches of snow at a time out of themselves. The town looked much older than it was at night. At night, the buildings and houses looked a bit European, almost like they belonged in the city of Québéc.

The exhausted people whom walked the streets at night -fifteen of them prostitutes-, were all the same. All wishing for more money, all upset about the way things were going, all as happy as clams during the day, so as to put out the everything's fine illusion.

A short and almost destitute woman, fourty years of age walked from her waitressing job at Rosewood's favorite restaurant, Orpheus, to her home.

Her dwelling was large, but in poor shape from the outside. It was a two hundred year old, abandoned mess. It was quite cheap, a steal for how much space it provided. She loved the cobwebs, hated the lonliness. It didn't matter that her two daughters were with her. She missed her deceased husband of twenty years... the father of her children, whom she was left with.

A near eighteen year old Morticia Addams sat at her bedroom window. Her porcelain complexion, the color of the snow sticking to her windowsill. Her long, black, gothic dress, not nearly keeping her usually ice cold skin warm enough.

She shivered, but did not move. Instead, she continued to watch the snow fall. The sensation was almost melodic, nearly putting her to sleep.

Morticia's bedroom walls were black, with a hint of purple. Her floor was mahogany, and her bed was queen sized with black, gothic bedsheets. Her window had purple and black curtains.

Her dark brown eyes glanced at the black, old clock her wall. The roman numerals on it read 10:50 pm.

She decided it would be one of those nights, one of the nights where her mother didn't come home until very late. Morticia reluctantly moved from her spot, and walked over to her mirror. She went through her usual nightly ritual then. She stared, longingly at her father, mister Charles S. Frump's picture and cried. She then took a tissue off of her black vanity and wiped her tears away.

Normally, she would cry for an hour or so on Kitty Cat, her only friend. But the two year old West African lion was asleep, and Morticia didn't want to disturb him.

She removed her makeup, seeing as her mascara was smudged. She then slipped out of her dress and looked at herself in the mirror. Her midnight black hair cascaded down her back. Her matching black push-up bra and panties complemented her curvy form. Morticia's body was at the very least, enivable. She had the measurments of 37"-23"-37" and very prominant cheekbones. The five foot nine beauty's legs stretched on for days. And her feet were the smallest in her family, a size six. However, she was still unhappy.

How badly did she want her mother to snap out of her depression, and for her father to still be alive. He was her best friend. Now, all she had was his pet lion and his picture on her vanity. He was the only person who ever expressed how much she truly meant in their life. Now, he was gone.

She slipped into her long, silky, black nightgown. It was low-cut in a v-neck and had long sleeves. Her black toenails didn't poke through this nightgown, as it extended down to the floor.

She brushed her hair, and laid it over her right shoulder. She stared Kitty, whom was sleeping next to her bed, through her mirror. She smiled. It was silly, but it felt like her father was almost watching her through Kitty. She loved the idea of that.

"Morticia!" Ophelia ran into her younger sister's room.

The nineteen year old was Morticia's polar opposite. She had long, wavy, sunny-golden blonde hair. Her skin was fair white, but she tanned easily. Whereas, Morticia didn't tan. At all. And Ophelia's eyes were crystal blue. She wore yellow all of the time. She was also a huge fan of pastels and white. She absolutely adored daisies and would find a way to incorporate them into her wardrobe somehow, even if it wasn't completely following the latest trend. She was wearing her yellow, long sleeved and low-cut, short, silk nightgown. Her nails and toenails were painted white and she wore a messy bun in her hair. All of her makeup was off.

"Yes, Ophelia?" Morticia asked, her demeanor calm as ever.

"Mother's home. She says she has big news, and-" She then heard the lion snore. "Mother told you not to keep creature in your bedroom."

"Well, that creature happens to be a very dear and personal friend, Ophelia." Morticia explained.

"For God's sake, Morticia! Why don't you make people friends?" Ophelia suggested.

"Ophelia, I tried that. People friends just don't like it when you ask them if they'd like to have a picnic in the cemetary."

"No. They just don't like being invited for tea, and then nearly being eaten by a hungry West Asian lion!"

"West African." Morticia corrected.

Ophelia rolled her eyes. "Whatever."

"So, before you freaked out over Kitty, you were saying that mother had big news?"

Ophelia scoffed. "Yes. Are you coming?"

"I know how exhausted mother is. Are you sure this can't wait until morning?" Morticia asked.

"Yes. It's about me!" Ophelia then ran downstairs, and her sister walked after her.

They then walked into their living room to meet their mother. Their living room was average, looked like the average American family's living room. It was classy, all of the furniture from the house came with it.

"Girls, sit down." Esmeralda greeted her daughters and sat on a chair across from them, while they sat on the couch.

"Do you remember Rosemary and Alistair Addams?" Esmeralda asked.

"Oh, yes. They were such an interesting-" Morticia was cut off.

"If course I do! They Addams' are only one of the richest families in America!" Ophelia shreiked.

Esmeralda nodded. "Well, Ophelia..."

The phone rang.

"I'll get it." Morticia excused herself and answered the phone in the kitchen. "It's Amelio!" She called to Ophelia.

Amelio was the boy she had been seeing for the past month, although he was more like a Sugar Daddy. He bought her everything under the sun, even a Ferari, which she forbid anyone and everyone in the family to use. All she had to do was love him, mostly physically. And she had no problem with that.

"He wants you to marry him!" This was nothing new for Ophelia. Every boy she used fell madly in love with her, and whenever things got too serious, she would break their hearts.

Morticia felt sorry for the poor boy.

"Maybe!" Ophelia called back. "Tell him to hang on!"

"Hold a moment, please." Morticia said to him.

"Mother, what were you saying?" Ophelia asked.

"Well, dear... Mr. Addams wants to marry you."

Opehlia squealed. "Morticia, tell him I said no!"

"Very well, Ophelia!" Morticia sighed and shook her head. "I'm sorry, Amelio. She's turned you down. I'm sure you'll find that special someone soon." She then hung up and sat back down on the couch.

"Now, mother? What about the Addams'?" Morticia asked.

"Mr. Addams wants to marry me!" Ophelia screamed, happily.

"Well, I'm not sure if he wants to marry you."

Ophelia looked dejected. "Morticia, you may want to give Amelio a call back."

"No, no, no!" Esmeralda replied, hastily. "He is going to marry you. His parents and I decided... after your father died, that you would marry his elder brother, Fester Addams."

"Oh. There's two?"

"Not anymore. Fester ran off a week later. Now, Gomez is going to take his place. He's Morticia's age."

"Wait... how much is he worth?" Ophelia asked.

"Ophelia." Morticia was appauled. "You aren't serious."

"Shut up, Morticia." Ophelia continued. "So, how much?"

"Let me put it this way, dear." Esmeralda put a hand on her daughter's knee. "If Mr. Addams paid to send each individual member of the Addams clan to Harvard two hundred times, he would still have enough money to provide a decent life for a family of seven, and send all of them to the moon... twice."

Ophelia's eyes were hungry. "I need him."

"That's just his personal account. Which he has access to, since he turned eighteen two months ago."

"Ophelia, I'm ashamed of you." Morticia spoke. "Really, a marraige isn't supposed to be about money. What about love, passion, mutual respect for God's sake?" She asked, knowing Ophelia would cheat in a heartbeat because nothing would make her happy.

"Oh, grow up, Morticia!" Ophelia slapped her arm. "It's all about money now. And dear, if you haven't noticed, men take one look at me, and want to give me all of it."

Ophelia was right. Men always fell for her. She wasn't curvy. Her measurements were 35"-24"-35". But she was five foot six and beautiful by the standards of magazines and any man she came across. Hell, even some women wanted her. And if the girls didn't want her, they wanted to be her.

Nobody ever did that for Morticia. True, most men admittedly watched her hips as she walked, looked at her with hungry eyes, wanted the gothic beauty. But Morticia was a hard nut to crack. And no man had ever really been brave enough to open her up, nor had she wanted them to do so.

"So, where do these people live, mother?" Morticia asked.

"Three cities over, in Mockrage, about an hour away. They live in the town of Briarwood, in the Cemetary Ridge district." Esmeralda recalled.

"Cemeraty Ridge?" Ophelia gulped. She tried to think of any possible excuse to make the family still seem normal.

"Do they live on that beautiful hill?" Morticia asked.

"Yes. 324 Candeltop Hill, how did you know?" Esmeralda asked.

"I always loved that hill. I remember it from when we used to visit Uncle Albert. He lived in that district." Esmeralda's brother was the black sheep of her side of the family, besides Esmeralda herself. He was what some might refer to as, a nut.

"Well, Ophelia... we're meeting him at his cousin's funeral, in three days. Mr. Addams is hosting it. It's going to be held at the Addams' home. There you'll get aquainted with him, and we'll discuss when the wedding will be."

"Oh, mother, thank you!" Ophelia hugged Esmeralda. "I can't wait!"

Morticia sighed. Great. He was probably the same as all of the other rich men interested in her sister. A sophisticated, snobby, wine-loving prick. Well, at least she could bring Kitty. Or at least, she hoped.

"Mother, I can bring Kitty, can't I?" Morticia asked.

"Hell no!" Ophelia shut her down. "No, absolutely not! I will not have Mr. Addams thinking our family is nuts because my wackjob sister wants to show off her lion."

"Mother?" Morticia asked again, ignoring her sister.

"Yes. But you must keep him locked in the guestroom at all times. Understood?"

"Yes, of course." Morticia nodded.

Esmeralda then poured herself and her daughters a glass of red wine. "To Ophelia!" She shouted.

"To money!" Ophelia proclaimed.

Morticia said nothing, but clinked cups with her mother and her sister and listened to the chat about what their new life would look like.

She couldn't stand it anymore after an hour, and she went upstairs to bed. Just before she was about to fall asleep, Ophelia walked into her bedroom.

"Hello, Morticia." She sat at the edge of her sister's bed.

"Ophelia." Morticia greeted her, and reached one hand down so she could pet Kitty.

"Don't be mad at me, dear. Please." Ophelia smiled at her.

"I'm not mad." Morticia responded.

"Good. Then I won't feel bad saying this." Ophelia looked her sister in the eyes, dead serious. "Don't fuck this up for me, Morticia. Be nice, and distance yourself from that man because he is going to marry me. Make him think you're at least somewhat normal, for my sake. And if he doesn't want to talk to you for whatever reason, flatter him and tell him about me. In all your years as my sister, please, please do this one thing for me. Make sure he loves Madame Frump." She paused and walked to the doorway. "Got that?"

Morticia nodded and turned over. "Qui."