𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐚𝐲

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐩 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐒𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰 𝐈𝐈

The castle-like school of Nevermore was abuzz with excitement as the students' parents stepped off their vehicles and greeted their children. The broad sky shone a bright baby blue to match the excitement of the students.

There were probably only two students who despised this day.

"Ah, the foetid air of teenage angst." muses Gomez as she paces slightly outside the family limousine. Mortician silently scans the grandiose school grounds with amusement as Pugsley steps out of the front seat door, the family butler, Lurch, with his deadly pale skin, cold ivory eyes and short cropped hair, stood tall in his butler attire with his black suit, trousers and tie and crisp white shirt, standing beside and holding the black car door Mortician and Gomez stepped out off.

"These were the best years of our lives, were they not, Mort?" the short, tan, puggy woman asks her husband with relish. He didn't look at her, continuing to stare at his beloved school. A smirk forms on his luscious lips.

Mortician nods slightly. "They certainly were, mi cariño." he replies lowly, his voice husky and seductive as he turns his head to his wife, smirking arrogantly, tilting his luscious lips upwards, a portion of his sleek waist length black hair neatly in front of his broad shoulders and the rest behind his back.

He turns to look around at the grandiose school once more, his ghostly pale porcelain skin contrasting with the shiny black of the family limousine, his eyebrows thin, arched and perfect, his eyelashes raven black, thick and long, his obsidian eyes calculating, his tall, sculpted nose accentuating his unparalleled handsome looks and his high sharp cheekbones adding to his seductive charm. His elegant black tuxedo fitted him perfectly, his black neat bow tie tight, his white shirt crisp and his trousers ironed just right. The man didn't look a moment past his twenties, even though he was much older.

 He lifts his perfect eyebrows ever so slightly. "I hope Saturday's happy to see us." he muses as he scans the clearing.

Pugsley anxiously looks around for his tall, pale, lean brooding brother. His appearance was the polar opposite of his immaculate sibling. The younger boy was puggy, and slightly tan, like his Mother but a little smaller and less dark, his chubby cheeks gave him a very innocent look despite his pitch black floppy hair and black attire with white accents namely, his horizontally striped black and white long sleeved t-shirt, black shorts and black leather shoes.

"I left a dozen messages on his crystal ball. Still no reply." Mortician says, hurt, as he stares longingly at his wife, shaking his head slightly, his long neat hair stayed perfectly in place. Gomez looks back at her husband, her short cropped curly black hair was neat and a big frown on her slightly wrinkly, tan face, creating deep lines in between her thick unkempt eyebrows. Her low cut black figure hugging dress did well to show off her fatty shoulders and thick chest. 

"Fret not, my handsome beast." she says with concern as she makes a shake with her round head. "I'm sure he's dying to see us."

Mortician gave her a hopeful smirk as his wife motioned with her thick black eyebrows. The man reached out and softly kissed her hand. She moaned softly as he did so, giving a longing: "Mmm."

"Come on, let's go." Pugsley calls and the man turns his head alertly to his son's urging voice as his lips lower slightly. Nevertheless, as he looks toward his beloved school, his smirk returns.

Mortician holds his wife's chubby hand on top of his in an elegant Victorian inspired way with his pale thumb in the air as the family of three approach the entrance to Nevermore, Lurch closing the car door and stood waiting beside it while Pugsley runs in front of his parents.

The heavy metal bell tolls.

Saturday. likely standing on the second storey, spies on his parents through his small hand held black metal telescope, holding it delicately with his pale black nail polished slender white fingers. He lowers the device and retracts it when he's had a good enough look. He had a very cold but arrogant expression on his perfectly sculpted face, with his head turned at an angle, looking at his Father and Mother from the side of his eyes. His maid was standing behind him with her head bowed, her slight bangs covering the top half of her face.