She Gapes At Me.

The first few days after the wedding were the most…interesting. My Our people were picking themselves up after a long war. They didn’t know how this was supposed to work. How to bow to the person who had been responsible for the damage, the casualties.

Inside the castle, things were just as confusing. My Our servants tiptoed around the castle, scared to death of my new wife, unsure of how she would act as mistress of the castle and queen of the land. 

I did not regret my decision, not then, not now. The adjustment just took some time. The wedding in particular was…memorable. Allowing the woman responsible for so many deaths into my the church, standing by her side, taking the vows only broken in death, was a surreal experience. Letting her into my our bed that night was even harder. She had given the order that led to my own father and brother dying, not to mention some of my cousins and best friends. 

After a few months, we slowly grew to know each other better. 

Years passed. We forgave each other, for I had caused almost as much damage to her people as she had to mine. Although nothing could undo the damage, we slowly built a trust and friendship with each other. At the same time, my our people learned to trust and respect her, and her our people did the same for me. 

It was not a conscious change.

It was slow and tedious.

It took care and intention.

One day, I looked at her.

My wife, my queen, my partner, my best friend. The woman who had started a war that took the lives of my family and friends, my our people. And I realized…I loved her. 

What had started in an effort to simply end the war between our people, led to a marriage of convenience, ended in a marriage of love. 

My dear Helena, while I did not love you at first, I love you now. I love you still. Forever and always, my wife, queen of OUR people.

From the diary of King Carlos Rolfson, 3173 A.D., shortly after the death of his wife, Queen Helena Rolfson (3096 A.D.-3173 A.D.), married 56 years

You were a beloved ruler of your country. When the evil king/ queen tried to conquer your country, you fought to the death to protect your country. Seeing how much your people loved you, the evil king/ queen proposes that you two marry to merge your countries. You accept for your country's sake.

He shrugged as much as was possible, what with all the ropes holding him in place against the pole.

"Honestly, I'm good with either one."

The villian stopped her pacing. "Huh?"

He shrugged again. "I dunno, I'm kinda done with all this hero stuff. They ask me to do things that keep me up at night. If I'm dead, they can't make me do stuff anymore!"

She paused, staring at him in fascination. "That is...slightly morbid."

"And," he continued. "Let's be objectively honest. You're a gorgeous person."

The villian couldn't help her blush, though she crossed her arms and turned away to hide it, resuming her pacing.

The hero watched her for a few more minutes before he couldn't stand it anymore.

"Did you...did you really want to kiss me - or kill me - or was that just messing with my head? I can never tell with you."

She ignored him and walked away, out of his sight line. He could hear her rummaging through what he assumed were her possessions. Several minutes later, the villian walked back into view, carrying a backpack that was obviously stuffed.

One eyebrow raised as the hero asked, "Going somewhere?"

She raised her eyebrows right back. "Yeah, to my sister's place. If you don't want to do this little dance anymore, it takes all the fun out of it."

"Now, I didn't say that-"

"So," she interrupted. "Wanna come with me?"

Writing Prompt #2848

"What are you going to do to me?"

"Kiss you. Kill you. I'm not sure yet."

Why do you do it?

The little voice in her head never left her alone.

Why do you torture yourself over and over again?

She squeezed her eyes shut and groaned, trying to drown out the noise.

You don’t have to suffer like this. Just walk away.

“No!” she shouted into her empty house. She curled into a ball on the floor, whimpering.

They wouldn’t care. They barely notice you anymore. It’s been almost two hundred years, Emmeline. Give up already.

She burst into tears, sobbing on her living room floor. 

She didn’t know how long she stayed like that, only that the shadows had moved a great deal when she finally sat up and wiped her tears.

Emmeline stood, hearing a knock on the door. When she went to answer it, she looked down and saw Jules, the youngest child of the current generation. He grinned up at her with the toothlessness of a six year old.

“My mama let’th me come all by mythelf now!” he exclaimed proudly. He flung his little arms around Emmeline and gave her a tight hug. “I mithed you, Aunt Emma!” 

She knelt and hugged him back. “I missed you too, Jules. What are you doing here?”

Jules pulled away and looked at her gravely. “It’th a thecwet,” he said, trying very hard to not spoil the surprise. He only lasted a minute before he blurted, “You have a biwthday pawty tonight!”

Emmeline looked surprised. “A birthday party? For me?”

He nodded eagerly. “That’th why you got to come ovew to my houthe tonight!”

Emeline was stunned as she handed Jules a cookie and then sent him back home. She sat at the table and tried not to cry again, this time with happiness. They weren’t forgetting her after all.

She looked over at the lone picture on her mantle and smiled at the young family in the picture. In the months after taking the photo, she had hidden it away, not liking it. She was blinking, her husband was looking at her instead of the camera, and her son was trying to walk away, held in place by only her arm. She had brought the photo back out the day after her husband died, needing to see his face again. They never had a chance to take another.

Emmeline grew to love the photo over the years, especially as her son grew and had children, and then they had children, and so on.

Jules looked so much like her son.

She wished they could have met.

You don’t have to suffer. Just walk away.

“No,” Emmeline said softly, hugging the picture. “This is my home. This is my family.

“I will protect them.”

Most immortals become the angsty “everyone I have ever loved is gone” kind of immortal. You, on the other hand, instead took it upon yourself to be a loving presence to entire generations of your chosen family, because they are descended from someone you once loved long ago.

I stare for a minute. There are...a lot of people standing around my front door.

I shake myself out of my surprise. "Can I...help you? Your Highness," I add hastily, sweeping into a deep curtsy.

The prince takes a small step forward. "We are looking for a Miss Anastasia Ryntz? We were told this is the correct residence."

My brow furrows in confusion. I feel like I'm missing something. I fidget with my threadbare apron as I slip between the guards and start fumbling with my keys to unlock the door.

"Yes, it is," I say slowly, ushering the crowd inside. "I'm Anastasia. I'm sorry, not to be rude, but why are you here?"

The prince looks around, distinctly uncomfortable in my very small house. With all the guards and his advisors, the room is very crowded. I wince as one of the guards tries to turn around and knocks a vase off my lone table.

The prince sighs and rubs the space between his eyes. "Really, Cass? That's it, everyone out." Balancing the cake in one hand, he uses the other to shoo at everyone. They look at each other uncertainly.

"I'm serious!" he yells. "The only people who are staying in this house are the lady, myself, and Grimms." He gestures at his closest advisor.

Slowly, my house empties, and I awkwardly offer the prince the one chair I own. "Would you...like to sit?"

He accepts gratefully, his advisor standing behind me, me across the table. The silence stretches for a few minutes before he jumps a bit in his seat. "Oh! I- We brought you a birthday cake!" He shoves it across the table eagerly.

I stare at it, then at him, confused. "Why?"

The prince frowns. "Well...it's your birthday, isn't it?"

I nod slowly. "22nd birthday. Why do you know that? And why do you know my name?"

The prince fumbles with his words for several seconds before his advisor - Grimms - sighs and speaks up. "Prince Auron is here to speak with you about something of the upmost importance. Are you the only person in residence? This is a private matter."

"Yes, it's just me." Dang it, I know my voice sounded sad there. I don't want them to think I'm a loser! "I live alone. By myself." Yeah, that was so much better. Whatever. "Anyway, what's up?" Facepalm.

Prince Auron clears his throat awkwardly. "You, of course, are aware that I am the youngest of the royal family. As such, on my birthday this year, when I came of age, I was given a prophecy about my future in the kingdom."

I nod. This isn't news to me. The prince's oldest sister will inherit the throne and his older brother will lead the armies and advise the crown. The third child is always a bit of a wild card.

"Does your prophecy have something to do with my business?" I ask. "I'm not sure how much help I'll be." I snort with derision. "You can see how I live."

Prince Auron fidgets. "Ah. Yes. Well, not really."

I wait, then when he doesn't elaborate, I sigh. "Your Highness, I would love to help you, but I can't do that unless you actually tell me what you need."

He blurts out. "I need you to marry me. Please."

I blink. "I'm sorry. What?"

You are a poor girl selling flowers. Today is your birthday but no one knows. When you return home you find the prince of the kingdom waiting for you with a birthday cake. "Are you sure this is the one?" He whispers to his advisor.

*turned out longer than intended, but I tried*

"Wait, so what do I do?"

Death turns and starts walking away. "Doesn't matter to me. I can't help you, sorry!"

With a huff of irritation, I find my way home. Strangely, I can't open the door; my hand passes right through the doorknob. But, when I try to go through it, all I get is a nasty bruise.

"Strange," I mutter to myself, inspecting the door. "Didn't expect that."

I end up waiting at the door of my former home for a few hours before my twin brother gets home. He parks his car and comes up, pulling out his keys.

As he unlocks the door, I slip in behind him. "Thanks," I say, even though I know he can't hear me.

He stops and tilts his head to the side for a second before shaking his head and setting his things down.

I freeze. Did he just hear me?

"Luke?" I try. "Can you- Can you hear me?"

He makes no movement that he did, and I deflate. Now what?

Upon further exploration, I discover that I can only touch things that belonged to me while I was alive. Books of mine? Yes. The TV remote that Luke bought? No. The crossword puzzle book that was a gift from Mom for both of us? Somehow works? The house that Luke bought and had let me live in for a few months? Apparently that was also a no.

With no idea what else to do, I sat down and started reading a book.

A few hours later, a loud crash sounds from the kitchen. I jump up, and find Luke making dinner (and dropping a pan on the floor). I'm about to turn around and leave, knowing he's okay, when I realize that there are tears sliding down his cheeks.

"Dang it," he whispers, picking up the pan. "Why is everything going wrong today?"

Right on cue, his phone rings. He answers it and sits down to talk to the caller.

"Hey, Mom. ... No, just making dinner. ... Yes, I'm fine. ... I have not been crying! ... Fine, okay, yes, I was." His voice wobbles a bit at the end of the sentence and he swipes a hand over his eyes.

"He was my twin, Mom. It wasn't supposed to be like this."

I swallow. However I was feeling, it was a hundred times worse for my family. I reach out as Luke continues talking to Mom, and put my hand on his shoulder.

Luke pauses again, glancing around the room before finishing his sentence.

"Luke?" I try again. "I'm okay. I'm here for you."

Luke looks up and smiles sadly. "I know, Mom. He's still with us."

I take my hand off his shoulder and step back, shocked.

Over the next week, I slowly piece together the ends and outs of my nonexistent afterlife. Luke cannot see or hear me on a regular basis. Only when he needs me does he ever hear anything. I eventually decide that he can't hear the words, only feel the sentiment.

And so, I go with Luke wherever he goes. I am with him when he meets a woman, and I nudge him in her direction. I am with him when he proposes, calming his nerves. Same on his wedding day, and when each of his three children are born.

I comfort him when our mother dies, happy and contented. When Death comes to take her, Luke is fully unaware of the conversation that happens in the room.

Death looks surprised to see me. "I expected you to be gone by now."

I roll my eyes. "I don't know where you thought I would go. You couldn't take me, remember? I had to figure it out myself."

My mother steps out of the shadows, her eyes fixed on Death. "You're here for me, I assume?"

"Mom?" My voice cracks.

She turns and her eyes widen at the sight of me. She dashes forward and hugs me tightly. "What are you doing here? I hoped to see you, I just didn't think it would be so soon!"

I gently pull myself out of the embrace, tears forming in my eyes. "I can't go with you. I've been here all this time, watching over Luke and you, because I can't go on."

My mother looks shocked. "But why?"

I shrug. "I wasn't supposed to die that day. There's no place for me."

My mother is crying. "You know we always loved you, right? We tried to make you happy."

Death clears his throat. "Touching, but we really ought to get going."

"No!" Mom shouts. "Why? Why can't he come too?"

Death sighed. "He wasn't supposed to die that day, he told the truth. There must have been something he left unfinished."

I shake my head. "I don't know what it is, Mom. I've tried. I'll be okay. I'll look after Luke and his family. Maybe I'll see you again someday."

Death takes her, glancing over his shoulder at me with a nod. I return it, waving at my mother as she disappears.

The years pass. Eventually, I start helping Luke's children, whispering in their ears when they fight, filling them with remorse. Calling out for them to be careful crossing the street, narrowly avoiding a car. Guiding them away from the meaner kids, and leading them to their new nest friends.

When my twin brother dies, the scene with Death repeats itself. This time it's harder to let go.

Death and I explain the problem to Luke, but he doesn't accept it, shouting at us. Even when I promise to look out for his kids, all he can do is scream, tears rolling down his cheeks.

I walk away first, sobbing.

Many years later, Luke's daughter gives birth to twins. I immediately fall in love with them. Over the years, I help them over and over again, as I had been doing for ages.

Then came the fateful day. Death appeared out of nowhere as I was watching the 17 year old twins at a school dance.

Death sits down next to me. "Well, your time is just about done."

"What?!" My jaw drops. "Really? You're going to take me this time? Why?"

Death sighs. "You'll see."

I scan the crowd, looking for the twins. I find Kaleb easily, but not Kylie.

A few seconds later, a scream erupts from the back of the room. The crowd parts for teachers rushing through, revealing Kylie, lying on the floor.

Death stands.

"No!" I shout, grabbing at him. "I'll stay! You can't take her!"

Death pulls free of my grasping hands. "It's already too late." He points a long, pale finger, and I see Kylie's spirit in the corner, looking around confused.

I run up to her, followed closely by Death.

"Am I...dead?" She asks, unsure.

"Please," I whisper, standing in front of her. "Don't take her."

"Wait, I know you!" Kylie exclaims. "Grandpa Luke's brother! But you've been dead for like eighty years!"

Death shakes his head at me. "I'm not taking her. I'm taking you. She will stay."

Kylie looks even more confused now. "But...I'm dead, aren't I? How can I stay?

I draw in a breath. "Kylie, I've spent my time helping my family. They, I guess you, could sometimes hear me, like a little voice in their heads. You can probably do the same."

Death reaches for my hand.

I scramble back. "No, wait! Kylie, I thought this would be forever. I wasn't supposed to die young. Neither were you! Maybe that's why this is happening. You have to live first, do something worthwhile before you can pass on."

Death succeeds in grabbing my hand this time and starts to pull me away.

"You'll be okay, Kylie!" I shout back to her. "We'll be waiting for you!"

Death and I leave Kylie behind, looking bewildered.

We step through a dark veil, and when we emerge on the other side I see the most wonderful sight I'd ever seen.

My family.

Death looks at you, baffled. “You’re not supposed to be dead.” You raise a brow. “I’m not?” “Nope,” Death says. “Huh… that’s never happened before.” Confused, you ask, “Do I get to go to an afterlife now?” Death shrugs. “You can’t, because you’re not officially dead.”

“What’re you doing here?” I mumble over my shoulder. Although I’m not looking, I know without a doubt who it is.

Ray sighs. “Look, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

“Not worth much,” I say, staring at the picture of my partner, framed and unnatural. She never would have wanted this. Her family didn’t know her anymore, why were they allowed to make these choices?

A groan behind me finally makes me turn. Ray stands there with his arms crossed, full disguise. I stare at him so long - not thinking much of anything, just numb - that I startle when he clears his throat.

“How long are you going to mope like this, Saga?”” He uses my code name, although I’m not dressed in my usual clothes. I didn’t take much care with my disguise today, just throwing on my mask and hood over dark clothes for the funeral.

I look away. “”If you came here to fight, let’s just get it over with. I’m not in the mood today.”

He sighs again. Why does he keep doing that? “I’m not here to fight. I’m here to pay my respects. I know you and Kya were close.”

“It’s my fault,” I whisper, turning back to the picture. She wasn’t just my partner, she was my best friend. I knew she was still a newbie, and I told her to go by herself. I thought she could handle it. 

By the time I got there, it was too late.

“Hey,” Ray says gently, shocking me. “It wasn’t your fault. I was there, remember? No one could have predicted that a normal everyday occurrence would turn so violent.” 

It was true. Ray had been there, for the same reason I was. Our fight had traveled several blocks and we happened to chance upon the scene. My fight with Ray had been forgotten as I rushed to Kya’s aid, and until this moment, I had forgotten he had been there at all.

I start walking toward the door, unable to stay a moment longer. 

Ray follows me. “It’s okay to be sad, Saga.”

I stubbornly ignore him.

He rolls his eyes behind me and I scoff. “You know I can see you. Why do you insist on being rude anyway?”

He grins. “It’s what I do best. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

“Argh!” I whip around to face him, face red with anger. Ray actually takes a step back. “I am not okay! My rookie died because of something I told them to do! My best friend is gone because I wasn’t there for her! And worst of all, she never got the chance to do anything she wanted to do! She was only 19…” My voice trails off with a sob.

Ray opens his mouth, but I cut him off. “No, you know what’s worse? You, coming here, to her funeral to mock me. Follow me, fight me, yell at me to your heart's content, but don’t sit here and mock me by pretending you care about Kya or my feelings!”

“Fine!” he snaps back, finally losing his temper. “I’ll tell you the truth if you want!”

I throw my hands up in frustration. “What I really want is for you to leave me alone, but go ahead!”

Ray’s voice drops back down in volume, slightly lower than his regular speaking tone, his voice shaking slightly with anger. “I’m not pretending anything. I may not have known Kya much at all, but I do know that on the few occasions I saw her, she seemed to be a genuinely good and happy person.”

“Why do you-”

“I’m not finished!” he snaps, before continuing again. “As for you, I do know you. I knew you would blame yourself, I knew you would be upset and sad, I knew that you would be here, and I knew you would stay long after everyone else left. I know you. Your feelings haven’t been a mystery to me for years! 

“The truth is, I know who you are.” He doesn’t meet my eyes as he says it. “Inside, outside, underneath the mask and hood. You aren’t a mystery to me. I honestly thought you would recognize me long before now.”

I stare at him, unable to speak, trying to understand what he is telling me. “You-”

Ray looks up into my eyes, voice soft. “Emma.”

He slowly pulls off the mask, revealing the one face I didn’t expect to see.

The one that equal parts of me hated and loved, unable to decide between desire and defense. Part of me never wanted to see him again, had hoped he died.

Part of me was so relieved that I wanted to cry.

I chose the latter.

your a super Villian/super hero who's partner just died. When the funeral was supposed to be attended, nobody came, except for one person, your arch nemesis, who came there to comfort you through these tough times

“Hey!” I cry out in shock. Jason obviously can’t hear me, up on the platform through the screaming crowds, as he kisses Ella soundly on the lips.

When they pull apart, Ella’s face is red. They turn to the crowd and bow proudly.

I am in shock. There are tears pouring down my face, but I can’t feel them. I stare numbly at the stage. I pinch my arm to make sure I’m awake. 

It’s not a nightmare. It’s real.

The tall guy next to me looks over and frowns. He shouts over the noise, “Hey man, are you okay?”

I can only shake my head, eyes locked on the stage where Jason and Ella are holding hands and staring at each other as they answer questions from the reporters.

The man takes my arm, leading me onto a side street a few blocks away, where the noise is significantly reduced. 

“What happened?” he asks, offering me a bottle of water. 

“Tha-that’s my girlfriend,” I say shakily. 

His eyes go wide. 

“And,” I continue, gulping the water. “My best friend Jason. We’ve known each other since we were six! And Ella…”

I can feel the tears now, hot tears falling down my face as I start to sob. 

The man sighs deeply. “I’m sorry, man. That’s rough. I’m George, by the way.”

He offers his hand to shake, and I accept it with a shaky laugh. 

“Dylan.”

I wipe my eyes roughly, trying to stop the tears. Now that I’m a bit less shocked, I’m angry. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” George asks carefully. 

My hands clench into fists. “We’ve been dating for three years! I was going to…”

My voice trails off and I reach into my pocket, pulling out the small box. I thrust it at George angrily, putting my head in my hands. 

George doesn’t have to open it to know that the box contains a ring.

“I was going to ask tonight,” I whisper. 

He tries to hand the box back. “Call her. Or him. Maybe it’s a misunderstanding?”

I know deep down that he’s wrong, but I can’t ignore the brief hope that flares up in my chest at the possibility. 

I fumble my phone out of my pocket and desperately press Ella’s name, putting it on speaker. 

George and I listen to it ring several times before she picks up.

“Hey, baby!” Her voice is breathless. “I’m kinda busy, can I call you back?”

I close my eyes, hearing the crowd in the background. “Where are you, Ella? I was going to surprise you at work.”

This was true. That had been my pan before the whole fiasco happened and the streets were blocked.

“Oh, you know,” she says. “Just…in the back, working on something.”

“Sweetheart,” I say quietly. “Have you seen or talked to Jason today? He was supposed to meet me for lunch, but he never showed up.”

“Jason?” Ella’s voice jumps up an almost imperceptible note. “No, I haven’t seen Jason today! Listen, I’ll call you back in a few hours, baby. I’m really busy right now, you can stop by then, okay?”

George shakes his head slowly, eyes angry for me, a bit sad.

I can’t stop the tremble in my voice as I say, “Never mind, Ella. I saw you. It’s over between us. You can tell Jason the same thing from me. I don’t ever want to talk to you ever again.”

I stare at the phone in front of me as Ella gasps and sputters, protesting. I can’t bring myself to hang up.

So George leans over and does it for me, turning my phone off and handing it back to me.

“I, uh, left my bag back there,” I mumble, pointing back to where we had come from, where the crowds were still screaming. 

George nods. “Look, I gotta get back to work, but I put my number in your phone. If you wanna catch up later, talk, get coffee, whatever, just text me.”

I nod, with a small smile. “Thanks, man.”

I push my way back through the crowds, miraculously finding my things right where I had left them. Ella and Jason are still on the platform, though now they look considerably less happy.

But their hands are still tangled together between them. 

Ella scans the crowd. Eventually, her eyes find mine. She nudges Jason and they both lock eyes with me, clearly pleading with me to talk to them.

I find it funny that in doing this, they ignore the reporter currently talking to them. He looks confused, trying to see who they are looking at.

I shake my head and turn around, pushing my way out of the crowd.

I hope my disgust was clear on my face.

You squealed as the heroes unmasked and kissed in front of the roaring crowds. Wait…you recognize their faces…that’s YOUR best friend and YOUR girlfriend/boyfriend.

Dear Diary,

I'm going to have to lock this diary away and destroy it. I love kids.

The Addams kids? They're menaces!

I'm fairly certain the girl wants to kill me. At least the boy seems fairly... sweet? No, not the right word. If I did die, he would definitely hide the evidence. Or eat it. The kid eats like a pig.

One thing is for sure. If I go missing, the girl got me and the boy finished me off.

Dear Diary,

Today was worse. I left the Addams kids playing upstairs while I went to make them lunch. When I came to fetch them, the girl had strapped her brother to some sort of contraption. I'm fairly certain it was an electric chair, though I don't know how she got one. Or why...

He was fine, just hungry. Which is almost more concerning. He ate so much at lunchtime, I'm not sure how he had room for dinner. I thought he might explode.

Oh well. Better luck tomorrow.

Dear Diary,

It's been a week. That girl - Wednesday - has tormented me within an inch of my life! There is blood in strange, unexpected places. Snakes and critters hidden in my bed. She locked me in my room for a whole day! There's even a disembodied hand in this house! It moves.

I think she might be clinically insane.

Pugsley on the other hand...I think he just does whatever she tells him to. Yesterday, she told him to jump out the second story window. I barely caught him. Then, I could barely pull him back inside. The kid weighs a ton.

The kicker? Wednesday said she wanted to see if he would bounce.

Dear Diary,

The Addams family will be reunited in two days. I'm overjoyed. I should've listened when everyone warned me. I won't lie, the house is interesting, and the stories the kids tell are...intriguing, at least, if not worrying. But you won't catch me anywhere near this place again. I wouldn't touch it with a very long pole, not even with several weapons hidden on me.

At least Wednesday has stopped trying to give me a heart attack. Instead, she takes it out on Pugsley.

But at least he seems used to it. Sometimes, I think he enjoys it.

Dear Diary,

Change of plans. Pugsley didn't want me to leave. He sat on my feet and cried when I tried to walk out the door. Not even Wednesday could make him move. Although, I'm not sure how hard she tried. I think I maybe saw a glimmer in her eyes.

It might have been a tear, but I guess it's more likely a plot.

Dear God, I hope it's not against me for leaving.

Maybe I'll come back to visit.

Dear Diary,

It's been awhile. The Addams family is...strange.

Wednesday and Pugsley meet me at the park every weekend for a picnic.

Morticia has me over for tea every other week.

Gomez decided I needed to learn how to fence. I don't think I had a choice. So now I have a fencing lesson twice a week. It's an odd sport.

That hand...Thing. Apparently, he likes playing checkers. I still don't know how I got roped into that.

I avoid the grandma though. She gives me the creeps. Not to mention the bald uncle. I'm fairly sure he's been arrested multiple times.

Anyway, now the Addams family is like my second family. My home away from home.

Who would've thought?

You, new in town and strapped for cash, see an ad in the paper; apparently, a "Gomez and Morticia Addams" are in need of a babysitter to watch their two children during a business trip. Despite the VERY high pay, no one has pursued it. Ignoring warnings from the locals, you sign up.

the problem with reading and writing leading to a strong vocabulary is that you tend to know the vibe of words instead of their meanings.

if I used this word in a sentence, would it make sense? absolutely. if you asked me what it meant, could I tell you? absolutely not.

"Oh. Yeah, it was tricky. Thankfully, I'm very smart. What do you think?"

"Unfortunately, I'm impressed."

“How could you?” “I can expla-“ “No, I don’t mean morally. Logistically how could you even pull something like this off?”