Rhapsody

It was early morning when they arrived in the woods; maybe four o’clock at the earliest. Luna could see the tiniest inkling of sun on the horizon, unnoticeable to mortal eyes. Roger led them through the foliage, his steps sure and smooth. The birds and animals they passed ran away in fear, sensing the aura of death that hung around them both.

Soon the trees began to thin, and the two came to a dirt road, leading onto a highway in the distance. Parked on the road in front of them, was a large, black hearse, the metal and glass shimmering like water in the slowly fading moonlight. There were black curtains covering the inside of the coffin-compartment windows, and the licence plate read G-Reaper.

Roger took their suitcases and put them in the back, along with his scythe, as Luna slid into the leather seats as he closed the car boot door, walking around to sit in the driver’s side. Soon, the two were driving in silence down a long, empty highway, lined by trees. There seemed no need to break their peace; Roger was content in his thoughts. As for Luna, she felt a nervous rolling in her gut. The Underworld was all she’d ever known. How was she supposed to adjust to living around mortals?

The car ride seemed to stretch on forever. The little digital clock on the dash board said it was six am. Luna could feel her eyes aching, her body begging for sleep. She would have to adjust her body clock from sleeping through the day to sleeping through the night. Mortals had such odd sleeping schedules. Who would want to miss the splendour of a dark, cool night for the harsh light of day?

Another half an hour passed; the young girl had taken a book out of her backpack to pass the time. She felt a strange, queasy feeling in her head that forced her to close the book. Ugh, mental note never read while driving.

“We’re here.” Roger’s voice broke the silence. In the distance, Luna could make out a wooden sign on the side of the road; it said, in large, block print letters, Welcome to Rosemore. That must be the name of the town. As they approached town limits, the trees began to thin, making way for houses and gardens. The car slowed, the speedometer dropping to 25 km/ph. The hearse drove slowly through the town, occasionally passing someone outside their house; a middle aged man who had been taking out his garbage openly stared, two women in their dressing gowns, smoking in someone’s front yard whispered behind their hands.

Roger continued to drive past all the houses, eventually driving past trees once again; there were no other houses around for what seemed miles, until they came to a small estate, the grounds stretching for at least a mile all around. Dense woods and a spiked, wrought-iron fence and large, open double gates surrounded the property; it looked like a mansion or a moderately sized castle. Pulling into the driveway, the gates seeming to close on their own, Luna spotted a familiar moving-truck inside a ring of black rocks. Standing straight and tall, as always, was Conrad, directing the golems he had bought as they took the furniture inside.

“Welcome to our new home, hon.” Roger smiled, gliding out of the car, greeting Conrad with a warm smile and a pat on the shoulder. The sounds were muffled from inside the car as the men discussed what seemed to be the progress of the golems. Luna climbed out of the hearse, her boots crunching the gravel as she shut the door, smoothing down her skirt. The sun was rising rapidly in the sky, a thick cover of clouds overhead, muting the burning rays.

“Luna?” the young girl looked over at her father, who was now pulling their suitcases from the car. He walked over and handed hers to her, “Sweetie, you’re room is upstairs, third door on the left in the west wing. Go get settled. You have school tomorrow.”

“Sure,” Luna nodded, smiling tiredly at Conrad as she passed him on her way to the front door. The golems marched past her as she entered; the massive double doors left wide open.

As she travelled through the foyer to the stairs, Luna glanced around her. The room was huge, and recently cleaned; the floor was immaculate, a gleaming chandelier hung from the roof and candles were lit at regular intervals across the walls. A moderate stage was set off to one side; it seemed the foyer was also a ballroom. Luna made her way up the stairs, her tread slow and lethargic. The only thing she wanted right at that moment was to have a long shower and sleep in her own bed.

The west wing was a long corridor, lined with widely spaced doors. Luna came to the third door on the left, as instructed. She entered, surprised at what she saw. It was almost an exact replica of her room back home; the furniture was set up in exactly the same way, boxes were stacked around the room, but the window seat had been replaced with French doors covered in dark curtains, leading out to her own balcony. In place of the seat, was a plush velvet chair placed next to her personal bookcase. There was a slightly ajar door next to her bed, which led into a large, private bathroom, and another set of double doors at the other end of the room, which Luna assumed led into a walk-in closet, with an empty laundry basket next to them.

Setting her suitcase on the floor in front of her bed, she opened it and took out a towel and her toiletries, removing her boots before stepping into her new bathroom. It was tiled black, with a black marble shower, sink, toilet, and a large, above ground bath with gold feet pushed against the wall. A small rubbish bin had been placed next to the toilet. Luna decided a bath should wait for a time when she wouldn’t fall asleep and drown in it. Removing her things from her bag, she placed her body wash, shampoo and other items inside the shower, took off her makeup and hair extensions, stripped, ran the water and stepped in.

The hot water felt amazing on her skin, and the young Reaper took her time washing her hair and body. After about an hour, Luna left the shower, wrapping her fluffy towel around herself. She made her way back into her room, over to her suitcase, removing fresh underwear and her most comfortable pyjamas. Behind the closed curtains, the sun had risen, shining mutely behind the clouds.

After dressing, Luna spent the rest of the day unpacking her things. She was so tired, but her body refused to let her sleep. It was slowly adjusting to the daylight, her body clock resetting itself. Luna put all her clothes and shoes into her new wardrobe, stacked her books into the bookshelf, put all her makeup and hair accessories in the cupboard in the bathroom, which had a large, gilded mirror above it. Fresh sheets were laid on the bed, her new computer set on the desk next to the bookcase. The top of the line laptop had been a gift from Roger, sort of a thank you for agreeing to come so quietly. He said it was to help her with school, for assignments and research and things.

The day passed quickly. Around midday, Roger came in to check on Luna’s progress, baring a sandwich to keep his daughter going. She thanked him, her stomach growling in agreement. The final item left was one Luna held very dear. A framed photo of her mother and father, just after they had gotten married, which sat on her bedside table. Evelyn had been a great beauty, pale with long golden hair, and Luna saw where she got her one green eye. They had been so happy; she never understood what had truly happened to her mother. Roger said she had been in accident involving hunters, and had moved on to the Final Death, but never explained in detail what had happened.

After a quiet dinner with her father, Luna finally excused herself to bed. The covers were warm and inviting. As she snuggled deep into her bed, an overwhelming wave of sadness washed through her. That night, Luna softly cried herself to sleep, dreading the next unfamiliar morning and her first day of school.

As Luna awoke the next morning, she found herself grateful that her father had chosen a relatively cloudy town. The light peeking under her balcony curtains was grey and dense, the yellow sunlight hidden behind thick, dark clouds. The new digital clock on her bedside table told Luna in bright green that it was 6:30am. School began in an hour and a half. Dragging herself from the warmth of her bed, Luna grabbed her towel and made her way sluggishly to the bathroom.

Luna walked out about an hour later, having finished with her hair and makeup, slathered on some SPF 50+ sunscreen, and dressed in her usual black. Her blue and green eyes were surrounded by thick black makeup, her fingernails black and brightly coloured extensions once again decorated her luscious black hair. Grabbing a leather messenger’s bag from the door handle, already filled with her new schoolbooks, Luna made her way through the west wing corridor and downstairs.

Roger met his daughter at the door, Conrad beside him. He was dressed casually, and looked almost like a normal father, while Conrad sported his usual smart, clean suit.
“Come on Luna, school waits.” He said, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder as she reached them. Luna simply nodded, resigned to her fate. Conrad held out an apple and a bottle of water,

“Good luck, Miss Luna.” He said, smiling kindly. She couldn’t help but smile back, thanking the old man quietly. Conrad bowed his head slightly, excusing himself to other matters.

The car ride to school was silent. In the subdued sunlight, Luna could see all the houses; they were something you’d expect to see in a quaint little town such as Rosemore. Little three by fours, some with second stories some without, pristine gardens, a typical, relatively inexpensive car parked in the driveway or on the curb, each surrounded by dense forest. People walked along the paths lining the road, mothers with their children, teenagers on the way to school, even an elderly couple out for a simple stroll. All of them stared. Bug eyed and glaring, watching as Roger’s hearse drove past. The windows were tinted to the point of it being illegal, which made it difficult for the nosier among them to crane their necks enough to see just who it was inside. As if the license plate wasn’t enough.

More and more teenagers began to immerge, walking or riding a bike or skateboard. As Roger pulled into the Rosemore Public High School parking lot, the kids began to whisper and gasp, pointing and staring. Luna felt herself blush, even though they couldn’t see her. Roger placed his hand on her shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze.

“Just ignore them. Humanity fears what it doesn’t understand. Deep down, they’re only jealous.” Luna nodded, sighing. It was true. She shouldn’t be ashamed of who she was. She was Luna Addams, daughter of the Grim Reaper for cryin’ out loud! Determination flashing in her bicoloured orbs, Luna straightened her back, squared her shoulders, and proudly held her head high.

“That’s my girl.” Roger chuckled, pulling up at the front of the school. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come in with you?”

“Yes, I’m sure, dad. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. Besides, if you come in, who knows how many souls we’ll lose?” She brushed him off. Roger smiled understandingly.

“Have a good first day, Luna.” He said as she opened the door. The people surrounding them stopped in what seemed to be anticipation

“I will. Love you.”

“Love you, too.” Luna climbed gracefully out of the car, shutting the door behind her. Everyone was staring at her, gawking like she was an animal at the zoo. She ignored them, strolling casually up to the front of the school, the sound of the hearse pulling away behind her. Deep down, her stomach was rolling. Luna had never been to school before; her whole life, Roger had taught her everything she needed to know. Mathematics, how to read and write, the history of the human race, the workings of the human mind and body, how to protect herself against and spot hunters; everything needed to be a successful Reaper. Even foreign languages; Luna was fluent in German, Welsh, and Japanese to name a few.

Stepping into the administration office, she closed the door, taking the room in. It was small; a long, chest high wall with plywood counter on top cut the room in half. Plastic display containers lined up along the counter held pamphlets depicting ads for help for depression, holiday programmes and town notices; awards adorned the walls and coloured plastic trays filled with paper, notices and forms of all kinds, were set to one side, opposite to the pamphlets. Luna walked quietly up to the desk, boots clapping dully on the cheap, corporate carpet, where a woman in her late forties, sporting a bleach blonde bob, heavy makeup, square spectacles and a plain white shift dress was tapping slowly at the keyboard of her boxy, outdated computer, her head rested on her other hand. Tap...tap...tap-tap...Luna flinched internally with every loud, agonizingly slow click.

“Excuse me,” she said in a soft but commanding voice, her sweet tone alluring and melodic, as all Reapers voices were. It was meant to easily sway the dying mortal’s to give up their souls, to find peace before moving to their next life. New souls continued on their life-journey’s, the lessons learnt in each successive rebirth weaving into the fabric of their being. Old souls, souls who had learnt everything there was to learn from their lives became Reapers, servants of the Grim Reaper, and guides to the newly deceased on their way to the Soul Fields, ready to begin their cycle all over again. Reapers born this way, unless blessed with everlasting existence by Luna’s father, lived for only a few centuries, before moving on to the Final Death, a state of everlasting slumber in between life and death. Luna and Roger were the exceptions.

The woman looked up, acknowledging Luna’s presence. She bore a golden name badge reading Sylvia Nelson, Administration in black print letters. Her grey eyes, small even behind the magnifying lenses of her large, dated reading glasses, widened as she appraised the student standing before her. Luna concluded that this was going to happen a lot.
“Can I help you?” Ms. Nelson asked; there was a note of contempt in her dry, nasally voice.

“Yes, I’m Luna Addams, I’m a new student.” Realisation lit up Ms. Nelson’s lined, caked face.

“Oh, yes. Welcome, Miss Addams, welcome to Rosemore.” She began scrambling around near her computer, pulling up papers and booklets. Luna saw her look up out of the corner of her eye every few seconds, appraising, speculating in the usual small town gossip kind of way. After a few minutes, Sylvia Nelson pulled up a small pile of papers.

“This is your timetable, a map, and a few sheets of paperwork you have to fill out.” She began to explain the paperwork, which Luna proceeded to fill out, while also explaining the best route to her classes on the map. There was a small sheet of paper, which she called a ‘pass’, that Luna had to take to all her teachers to get signed and bring it back at the end of the day. It was all very complicated, and the young girl felt herself becoming a bit lost. She’d not anticipated a mortal school to be so complex. Looking up at the clock on the wall, white with black hands and numbers, there was still ten minutes before the start of class; plenty of time to find her way there, right?

Thanking Ms Nelson politely, albeit a little stiffly, Luna left the office, making her way back into the halls of the school. Teenagers were moving through the room, some at lockers, standing together in groups talking, or alone gathering books, some were lingering with no real sense of purpose other than waiting for the bell. Looking down at the timetable in her hand, Luna looked over her lost of classes;

Period One
8:00-9:00
Biology

Period Two
9:05-10:05
French

Period Three
10:10-11:10
Geography

Period Four
11:15-12:15
Study

Lunch
12:15-12:50

Period Five
12:55-1:55
English

Period Six
2:00-3:00
Mathematics

Biology was in the Science block. Following the map, Luna wandered off in search of her class. She passed the Arts block, the Maths block, the Gymnasium, even the cafeteria, still with no luck. Finally, soon after the bell sounded, she found the Science block, nestled between the staff room and the library. The door was slightly ajar, and Luna could see class was just settling in. A man stood at the front dressed in jeans and a brown button down shirt. His name on the timetable read Mr Olsen.

Knocking on the door frame, Mr Olsen looked up, momentarily distracted from his line of thought.
“Ah, hello, you must be the new girl. Come in, don’t stand in the doorway,” he said, ushering her into the room and over to his desk. “Everyone, I’d like to introduce our new classmate. This is Luna Addams,” he gestured to her before writing her name on the whiteboard. Luna heard some of the students begin to whisper and titter. Was her name really so odd?

“I trust you’ll all make Miss Addams feel very welcome. Is there something funny you’d like to share, Sara?” Sara was a stick thin girl with long, dyed dark hair, heavy makeup and revealing clothes, sitting in the back with a group of girls, four of them in total, who all looked very similar. They were trying not to giggle behind their hands.

“No, sir,” it was obviously a lie. All four girls had their hands over their mouths, giggling and smiling, looking between each other and back to the front. Mr Olsen rolled his eyes. He directed Luna to a seat in the middle of the room, where she sat alone for the rest of the lesson, listening solemnly and occasionally taking notes. She often caught people glancing at her, but they looked away when she made eye contact. Some lingered, caught in the strangeness of her blue and green gaze, before looking away uncertainly.

Biology seemed to drag by. When the bell went, Luna began to gather her things slowly, putting them back into her bag. Suddenly she felt a hand on her back before her abdomen collided with the side of the desk, as a passer-by pushed her roughly. Looking up, she saw it was Sara and her group, who were still laughing and gossiping as they left the room.

“Don’t worry about them,” said a voice, male with an effeminate ring. Luna turned to see a boy, short for a man but still taller than she’ll ever be, with blonde hair and green eyes. “They’re always like that.” He shrugged; a pleasant grin spread on his boyish face. He approached, a hand extended in greeting, “I’m Gavin Jameson. Welcome to Rosemore, Luna Addams.”

Luna took his hand, gently squeezing it, “You’re the first person to say that all day who actually seems to mean it.” Gavin laughed, removing his hand to slip it though Luna’s arm.

“What class do you have next?” Luna pulled her timetable from her pocket and looked it over,

“Uh, French.” Gavin’s green eyes light up, a smile breaking onto his face,

“Me, too! Come on, I’ll take you there!” Without leaving time for her to answer, Gavin was leading Luna out of the classroom and down the halls. The other kids seemed to stare even more now, like a great social taboo had been broken.

“So, where are you from?” he asked, leading them down corridors. Luna blanched, remembering the cover story Roger had told her at dinner the night before.

“Uuh, the south. Deep South.”

“Ooh, interesting.” Gavin glanced over at her, smiling happily, “And you’re parents, what do they do?”

“Oh, it’s just me and my dad, Roger and our manservant, Conrad. Dad works with the dying, helping them find peace and start over. Like a Greif Counsellor, I guess.” It was the vaguest description she could come up with without saying ‘my dad is the Grim Reaper’ and getting them run out of town. Gavin seemed to fall for it, hook, line and sinker.

They arrived at French just as the final bell went. Gavin pulled them to a desk at the back. Luna frowned when she saw Sara and her gang sitting toward the front of the class.

“Don’t worry about Sara.” Gavin patted Luna’s hand, “Madame Jolie is her favourite teacher; she wouldn’t act out around her. She’s a Grade-A Ass Suck.” Luna snorted, stifling a laugh. Sara whipped around, glaring at them with small, fishy hazel eyes, surrounded thickly with liquid eyeliner and eye shadow, her foundation caked around her face.

A tall, thin woman dressed in a cream pantsuit with a black silk scarf around her neck walked briskly into the room, her high heels clicking on the linoleum.

“Soin soin, Mesdemoiselles Davis!” She snapped in French, clicking her manicured fingers in Sara’s ear. She wore spectacles over her pale blue eyes, her long blonde hair tied in a ponytail, the end reaching to the small of her back. All four girls in the front row sat at attention, their hands folded on the desks.

“Pardon, Madame Jolie. Mon défenses.” Sara responded, her French accent rolling fluently from her mouth. Madame Jolie smiled, obviously proud of her most favourite student,

“Good girl,” she winked at Sara, who grinned at the complement. Madame Jolie turned to her cluttered desk, and Sara looked back smugly at Luna, contempt on her face.

“Hmm, it seems we have a new student.” Madame Jolie mused, glancing at the class roll, “Bring your slip to me, and we shall begin.” Luna obliged, rising from her seat. On her way back, she tripped on someone’s bag.

“Freak,” muttered one of the girl’s next to Sara, smiling smugly. She was a bit shorter than Sara, her dark roots showing under the mass of carefully styled, bleach blonde hair. The two remaining girls began giggle loudly. One was lanky, red haired; brown eyed and thin with freckles dotting her face, while the other was Asian, with dark hair and eyes, and by far the shortest of the four.

“Miranda Atkins, Harriett Jacobs and Lin Redford, that’s enough of that.” The three glanced at their desks as Luna returned to her own next to Gavin, who patted her hand in comfort.

The rest of the lesson went very much the same way. Madame Jolie would say something in French, and Sara would put her hand in the air, responding perfectly. The Madame would then praise the girl, whose face would smooth into a superior, self-satisfied grin as she glanced haughtily around the room. Luna wondered why someone so pretty could be so...ugly.

Geography passed in a blur of maps, numbers and lines. The teacher was a crotchety old man named Mr Williams, and Luna was sure he had taken a dislike to her before she even spoke her name. Gavin wasn’t in that class, but he had promised to meet his new friend at the library for Study.

“I’ll introduce you to Ruby. You’ll like her.” He said cheerily, before waving and walking off to his lesson. Luna wondered; were they friends? Gavin was the only one who had even bothered to be nice to her, and he was taking time out of his own day to show her around. It occurred to her that she was in no position to pass up friends.

As promised, Gavin met Luna at the entrance to the small, communal school library. “Come on, Ruby’s inside. I can’t wait for you to meet her!” Like a child on Christmas morning, he led the young Reaper into the library, a giant grin on his face, his green eyes alight with joy.