NOTE: CHAPTER 4 was changed to THE LIBRARY OF WEST PARKER

"Ophelia, how much longer will you be inside your room?" Morticia asked as she knocked Ophelia's door for the third time since they had breakfast.

It was the first day of school and Ophelia has locked herself up in her room for such a long time that Morticia already finished washing the dishes they used. Not to mention that she already bathe and changed into her first-day-of-school clothes, and yet her sister was still inside her room preparing.

"Just a little while, Morticia," she heard Ophelia said in a muffled voice, as if she was buried inside her dresser.

"How short is that 'little while'?" Morticia asked, trying to hide her exasperation. "I had been knocking at your door for the past hour. I managed to clean up the kitchen, took a bath, and change into my school things. Yet given that you started preparing before I did, you are still inside your room. In case you have not noticed, today is the first day of classes and we might be late if you do not hurry up."

"I'm done, I'm done," Ophelia said, slightly humoring her sister's exasperation. "Since when were you so interested of going to school, anyway?" She opened the door and revealed herself. Morticia could not stop herself from gasping in shock. "What?" Ophelia asked curiously.

Ophelia was wearing a light pink dress that ended just below her knees. The sleeves were puffed at the shoulders and had a ribbon tied at each arm cuff. As if the dress could not go any worse, Morticia noticed that the lower part of the dress was as puffed like ball gowns, with ribbons all over its hem line. Ophelia was also wearing ludicrous white, lace stockings underneath her pink patent leather Mary Janes that perfectly matched the dress.

"What are you wearing?" Morticia asked pointing at Ophelia's clothes and eyeing it with disgust. She totally forgot that they were supposed to go to the campus. She even took no notice at Ophelia's comment about her having no interest of attending school just because of her sister's ridiculous choice of clothing.

"A dress," her sister replied indifferently.

"A pink dress? Since when did you stray from your usual white?" Morticia questioned, almost hysterically. "I might not agree to your style of clothing since I prefer black, but pink?"

"Well, I own several pink clothes now," Ophelia replied. She smiled serenely at her sister who was scowling at her.

"Several? Why?"

"Oh, Christian bought me this and the others."

"Oh, Christian. I see," Morticia replied with clear irritation in her voice. It is true that Christian is handsome and rather want-able, but then he was not her type. She thought that he and her sister quite look good together, but somehow, seeing them huddled together, whispering and giggling, tickling each other was too much for Morticia. And the mere fact that Christian bought her sister pink clothes was something she could not tolerate any longer. The mention of his name shook her up, remembering that they would be late if they dawdle. "Come along, we will be late."

Together, they climbed down the stairs in silence. But apparently, Ophelia had other ideas for conversation that further irritated Morticia.

"He's walking us to the campus, you know," she happily said, oblivious of her sister's annoyance. "I think that is very sweet of him, taking time to walk us. But then again, today is also his first day so it hardly matters. And given that we are from the same course, we are going to walk to the same direction. Of course, your first class is a bit out of the way but we'll walk you there before we go to the Agriculture building. Isn't that just wonderful, Morticia?"

"Wonderful," Morticia replied dryly.

Ophelia reached the front door first and opened it, coming face-to-face with Christian. He smiled broadly at her and she returned it.

"Hello, Ophelia," he greeted, kissing her on the cheek.

"Hello," she replied, though rather shyly.

"Thank you for wearing the dress I bought you," he said, taking a good look at her.

"Of course I am wearing it, you gave it to me, after all," she replied. She stepped outside, allowing Morticia to close and lock the door.

"Good morning, Morticia," Christian greeted staring at her clothes. As usual, she was in all-black. She was wearing a turtle neck, long sleeved, body-hugging top, a leather pants, and wedge closed shoes. And just like before, she braided her hair into two plaits that sat on her shoulders. "I see that you... er, dressed up for the first day of classes."

Morticia looked down at her clothes then back at Christian. She glanced at him icily. "Not more than Ophelia..." she said as she stared at his clothes, which were torn jeans and black sleeveless shirt underneath his brown faux leather jacket. He was wearing red high-cut Converse sneakers, with its laces untied. His hair was windswept, as if he just got off a motorcycle. "And certainly not more than you. Oh, and please do not bother walking me to my building, I can manage."

With that, she climbed down the porch and left Christian and Ophelia, looking quite shocked.

Morticia's irritation visibly lessened by the time she arrived at the Literature Building. Despite herself, she was feeling a bit excited of starting college. Of course, she would have been more excited if she came to Salem University. But since her mother insisted that she came to West Parker instead, she satisfied herself by just knowing that her father would send her to Salem or Transylvania University after she finished Literature here.

She barely had time to appreciate the Renaissance beauty of the building when she felt a prickling sensation at the back of her neck, as if someone was watching her. She slowly turned to look behind her but only saw a shadow of a man disappearing behind a tree not faraway from her. She wanted to go to the tree and investigate but then she remembered that she has a class few minutes from now. Abandoning the shadow and her curiosity, she went inside the building in front of her.

Thinking that she was already late, Morticia crept at the back entrance of the room. But upon entering, she noticed that there was no professor present. In fact, the whole class was in chaos. Here and there students were loudly talking to each other, obvious that they know each other. Some young men were playing some sort of music, which Morticia thought as some wild animals howling. There were a bunch of young women singing and dancing to the rhythm the music played, completely losing themselves.

What surprised her even more than the fact that they know the appalling music, was the way these young women dressed. They were rather scantily clothed, she observed. Most of them were wearing tops that show their belly buttons, underneath their faux animal fur jackets that seemed useless to Morticia since they were cut in the middle of their torso. Some were wearing ripped jean, not unlike the one Christian wore, while some were wearing shorts that barely covered their buttocks. And to be honest, Morticia thought she saw someone's buttock cheek peek out of the hem of her shorts.

Feeling appalled by the modern fashion, she could not even bear look at the young men who were dressed in oversized pants and shirts with matching ridiculous caps, she stared at the other parts of the room. Her eyes fell upon a huddle of students who were whispering and laughing amongst themselves. She tried listening to them, but with all the noise inside the room, she decided to sit on a vacant chair near them.

"... skin is disgusting!" Morticia heard one of the female students whispered. It was followed by a chorus of laughter that did not sound nice for her ears.

"Look at her clothing," added another female voice. "Who wears gloves nowadays?"

"Her gloves is one thing, but her absurd choice of black material is just laughable!" another female voice said.

"Ugh, her hair is worse! It looks like a haystack" a male voice, though by the sound of it, he was gay, said.

Morticia swiveled her head to their direction. She knew the feeling of being teased and could not bear the sight (or sound) of someone being bullied. She stood up behind them and spoke, "Will you just let her be?"

The group rounded at her. All of them were blonde, haughty, and looked rich. They were wearing signature clothes and they were eyeing Morticia like she was some sort of clown dressed in sparkling gown. Behind them, Morticia could see a young woman in black looking at the floor.

"And who are you supposed to be?" the young man said. He crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow at her, confirming her hunch that he was indeed gay.

"Someone who does not care of who you are," Morticia replied coolly, though her blood was boiling in anger.

"I see that you are just like this scum," the first young woman said. Her hair was long and bouncy, and she failed to show it as she tossed it over her shoulders.

"I do not really care about what you mean," she replied. "But I do care about that young lady you are bullying."

"Oh, I would not call her 'lady'," the second girl said. She flashed the girl next to her a malicious grin which the latter returned. It was only then that Morticia noticed that they were twins. Both of them wore the same clothes, though the former's was lilac and the latter's was the softest blue.

"I'd rather call her... banshee," her twin said. The young woman they were bullying flinched as she said that.

"Just leave her alone," Morticia repeated, her voice sounding dangerous. She stared at the quartet pointedly, challenging them to defy her. Perhaps something with the way she spoke, or her manner of speaking, or her clothing, or maybe the three of those rolled together stirred amongst the foursome. They glanced at Morticia uncertainly.

"Come on, guys," the blonde girl with long and bouncy hair murmured. The four of them went to the seats near the door and huddled together again, probably to gossip about Morticia's interference.

Morticia glanced at the young woman in front of her. She sat on the chair beside her and patiently waited.

"Thank you," the girl finally said. Her voice was rather raspy and quiet, as if she just yelled at the top of her lungs and lost her voice.

Morticia smiled at her and the girl lifted her head to return it. Her face was very attractive and her greenish skin somehow made her look even more beautiful. Her eyes were deep-set, which was further emphasized by the dark, heavy lines around them. She had high cheekbones and a pair of thin lips. Her hair, in contrast to what her attackers commented, were not dry and frizzy at all. It was rather soft and silky, and it fell down to the girls upper thighs. She was wearing a black, collarless smock that stopped a little above her knees, which were covered with similarly black tights. Her dress was short sleeved but she covered her arms and hands with black gloves. It amused Morticia that she wore the same shoes as she does.

"I am Morticia Frump," she said extending a hand.

"Phoebe," the girl replied, shaking her hand. "Phoebe Munster."

Morticia could not have asked for a better friend. As it turned out, Phoebe was the one she saw in the library the night before the classes started. Morticia learned that Phoebe lives with her grandmother inside the campus premises. It was not hard for either of them to be comfortable with each other. More than their similarity of having penchant for black clothing, they learned that they both like the same type of food and drinks, though they both do not each much, they had the same liking for things 'normal' people would refer as 'odd' or 'weird' or 'peculiar', and they both were not as human as possible.

This discovery happened during the third day of classes. Finally, their first period professor came. And to Morticia and Phoebe's delight, he was as odd as they were. The whole class paid no respect to Mr. Crisostomo Belch, an old, fat and balding man, but Morticia and Ophelia liked him very much. Just as Beverly told Morticia, Mr. Belch started discussing in the class about the different folkloric creatures.

"Folklores or legends are the basis of the local culture a person is exposed to," he said on the first day he came to class. He did not seem to care the most of his students were either sleeping or chatting with their neighbors. "The reason why many children are afraid of the dark is because their parents scared them that the abominable snowman would catch and eat them if they leave the house during a winter night. The reason why the children's parents scare them with that legend is because their parents' parents, meaning their grandparents, used the same story to scare their sons and daughters, or the children's parents. You see, the cycle goes on and on and the legend lives forever."

Phoebe raised her hand.

"Yes, Miss...?" Mr. Belch queried.

"Munster," Phoebe replied.

"Yes, yes, we are talking about monsters," Mr. Belch said, causing Phoebe's bullies to laugh hysterically. But Phoebe, learning from Morticia, paid them no attention.

"No, Sir, my name is Munster. Phoebe Munster," she corrected.

"No, Sir, I am a monster. I am Phoebe, the monster," one of the twins mockingly whispered that carried through the whole class. Even though who did not pay attention to Mr. Belch's lesson sniggered. Good thing, Mr. Belch chose to ignore them, just like what Morticia and Phoebe were doing.

"Well, what is your question, Miss Munster?" he asked.

"Don't legends have basis?" she asked. "I mean, they cannot be just a figment of one's imagination, can they? Where would the legend of leprechaun's gold at the end of the rainbow come from if no one has truly seen a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow?"

"Rainbows have no end, you know," the gay bully hissed. To his delight, the whole class sniggered at Phoebe once again.

"You do not have brains, you know," Morticia retorted softly. Before he could react, the whole class laughed wholeheartedly. Morticia smiled at him without any humor before returning to focus on Mr. Belch who was replying to Phoebe's question.

"Very good question, Miss Munster," he was saying. "You have a very excellent point. However, the difficult thing about legends is that no one has truly documented the tales. The mere stories told are not enough evidence, especially that they are not congruent to the norm. Many still believe that these folkloric creatures exist. In countries like the Philippines, many people believe in the existence of different creatures not because they are afraid, but because they respect the unknown. Have I answered your question, Miss Munster?"

"Perhaps," Phoebe replied, smiling slightly.

Morticia raised her hand.

"Miss...?" Mr. Belch asked, turning his attention to Morticia.

"Frump, Sir," Morticia replied. "Do you believe in that such creatures exist?"

"Oh, I do believe. The mere fact that you exist makes me believe," the girl with bouncy blonde hair replied, rousing again a chorus of laughter among the class.

"Likewise," Morticia and Phoebe replied in unison. They flashed the girl with a rather malicious smile, which made her cower in her seat.

"Yes, I do believe in them, Miss Frump," Mr. Belch replied as if no interruption happened. "I would lose nothing if I believe, would I?"

"I guess not," Morticia replied with a smile.

While Mr. Belch handed out copies of booklets containing famous folkloric creatures, Morticia, who was seated by the window, noticed a shadow of a man disappear once again behind the a tree. She knew that it was the same shadow she saw three day previously. And she also knew that the shadow belonged to a human being, and not a folkloric creature. However, before she could dwell on the mysterious shadow, or 'the Phantom' as she called it, she caught sight of Phoebe who was staring blankly to space.

"Phoebe, is everything alright?" she asked in a whisper, concern etched in her low voice.

Instead of answering, Phoebe stared at her intently, her almost black eyes boring into Morticia's blue ones.

"What?" Morticia asked. She reached out a hand to touch Phoebe's arm.

"Please do not be afraid of me, Morticia," Phoebe whispered. Morticia suddenly noticed that her voice was still raspy, although three days had already passed. Seeing her bothered face, she realized that the greenish tinge of her friend's skin was not a skin disease as she previously claimed. She looked down at the image on the booklet's page three, it was a screaming woman with floor-length hair and her skin was greenish-blue.

"Why should I be afraid of you?" she asked, an idea dawning over her. However, she pushed the thought away, as she was too concerned at her friend.

Phoebe beckoned Morticia closer, and she did. "Because... I'm a banshee."

Morticia glanced at Phoebe's scared face and smiled at her. "I know. Well, I just knew few seconds before you told me."

"And you're not afraid of me?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Because I am a witch."

End of Chapter 5. Sorry, guys! I know I said that this chapter would be lengthy and juicy. But then, after writing the last line, I realized that it would be a good cliffhanger. I promise, Chapter 6 will be the juicy one. PROMISE!