Hi everyone, to my followers, look at that; I'm not dead! Yay! So the origins of this are a little mixed. I'd had the basic idea for this floating around in my head for a while, but it wasn't until I'd started working on my second draft of my college essay (it scares the crap out of me to even say that) that it sort of came together into the details of how I wanted to work this thing out. in the second draft, a whole freaking rewrite of the original response I'd written, I talked about dreams and how I feel about them. and so when I talked about those things it reminded me of the two movies contained within and why I love them so much and I realized. I love them because they're different from anything I'd ever seen before. they took chances that in my opinion paid off. were all the endings satisfactory? no, but most stories in life are like that. now, for the sake of the plot there are going to be some things that aren't true, despite the fact that it's set in an actual location etc. etc. and for those of you wondering why I didn't put this in the crossover section, its because I found I get more reviews if I stick with one fandom first and then move it around. to be fair though, this was a writing exercise, like most of my stories are. if people like it, I'll try and add more to it. if not, it's to test my abilities as a writer by bringing in different characters and having them play off of one another while still remaining true to the original character we know and love. but please don't expect me to be updating every couple of days or even every week. I have a lot going on that I need to focus and that means sadly that writing comes second.

enough of my rambling, enjoy the story

Disclaimer: I own neither Beetlejuice nor Labyrinth

The odd thing about life is that we don't often get what we want, and when we do it's rarely a case of happenstance like most people are led to believe. Getting what we want in life is often orchestrated by those around us, made to look like a series of random coincidences but the truth is that there is nothing miraculous about it. And maybe it is because we do not truly believe that if we wish upon a star we will get what we want, that it never works.

Sure, we indulge in our childish whims every once in a while. We throw coins in a fountain, we search for four leaf clovers, we try to find the end of a rainbow, and we break the wishbone with friends. We do all of these things, and every time we see a shooting star streaking across the night sky we close our eyes, cross our fingers, and we wish with all our "heart" for something to come true. However, the art of wishing isn't that simple.

A wish, in order for it to truly be considered one, must come from the heart. A wish is something that speaks about the most vulnerable parts of ourselves; the things we would never show to anyone, not even those we would trust with our lives. Because it is a dangerous thing to give of one's self completely. To place your trust in the hands of someone else and hope they do not betray it. It is very rare when someone is able to find the courage to do so. It is even rarer to find someone worthy of the act.

Next, the wish can only be fulfilled when there are special circumstances involved. A wish cannot be made at any time of day, any day of the year and be fulfilled. It's far too great and too messy a task. Most wishes can only be fulfilled when the walls between realities are thin and those hopes and dreams can be heard by those who have the power to grant them. The most common are the ancient celebrations of old; Christmas, the New Year, and more notably, Samhain. More commonly known as All Hallows Eve or Halloween, it is the one time of year where all over the world, the veils that divide the living from the deceased, the mortals from the magical, are at their very thinnest. Even more so at the so called "witching hour", just before the dawning of the new day. Even a whisper of a wish can be heard by anyone, though whether they choose to answer it or not is up to them.

Last, the wisher must believe in themselves in order for a wish to come true. Most individuals do not realize they possess some of the old magic gifted to humanity at the very beginning of time. They ignore it for most, if not nearly all their lives. Some realize it and share this gift with others; the artists, the musicians, and perhaps most important; the dreamers. Those who can dream with their eyes wide open are the most important because they are the ones who nurture the spark in others. They who can build houses and towns and kingdoms and even worlds, all without picking up a single stone or brick. The storytellers nurture from the very beginning and open doors to all the rest. Those who are nurtured by the dreamers are truly lucky indeed.

There are very few people who believe in the impossible, and yet when they make a wish it is more likely to be granted. So imagine, one Samhain night, when two people who have never met, never known of the other's existence, never even thought about the consequences of wishing aloud might be –both in a state of wistful melancholy- make the exact same wish.

"I wish there was someone who understood me"

The powers of a higher being, far more powerful than any they'd encountered before, heard this wish. The next week an idea was put into someone's head. It was accepted and instituted the following spring. In the middle of July, two letters were sent out. One arrived to an old Victorian in a small town located in the more suburbanly rural areas of New York. The other arrived in a backwater town in the middle of Connecticut.

"To whom it may concern,

The influx of students joining our facility this year is far greater than last, and there is not enough housing in the freshman dormitories to accommodate everyone. Therefore, there may be some freshman rooming with sophomores and even juniors come this fall. In order to prevent discrepancies and institute more harmony in the student body as a collective whole a personality assessment was sent out earlier in the year. Towards the end of August you will receive the results of these assessments i.e. your roommate for the upcoming school year. We thank you for your understanding in advance

-Abigail Wilsons

President of Salem State University"

The two young women read these letters and showed them to their closest companions, who gave advice that was basically to make the best of it. It had been a fairly simple questionnaire and with quite a few written response questions there was very little chance that the administrative faculty could botch it up horrendously. Placated, this news slipped from their heads, both intent on enjoying their hobbies to the fullest before a new academic year began.

In the third week of August another letter came. This time listing the dorm building, room number, and name and level of the student's roommate for the year. Most were overjoyed, a few people had decided to go to the same school as their friends. As such they had filled out the questionnaire together and ended up rooming together. However it was not the case for our main characters.

"Huh, I'm rooming with a freshman this year." Said one.

"Why ya gotta?" came the scratchy voice of a wizened old man.

"I don't know. That's just the way they decided to do things this year I suppose."

"Perhaps thou mayst get the chance to play the heroine once more my lady." Came a third voice.

"What do you mean?"

"I think what 'e means issat you could help the little lost one around, like you wanted when you was new." The old man said.

"Make new friend." Chimed in a gravelly, almost animalistic voice.

The young woman laughed. "Oh, I see what you guys mean. But this means I won't get to have you guys over as often as last year. I'll always have to be on the lookout for my roommate to make sure she doesn't think I'm crazy. Though, if she did she might request to move and I could get a dorm all to myself like last year."

The group shared a collective laugh at that remark. But the evening was wearing on and the three males could see they were tiring out their companion.

The old man spoke, more soberly and seriously than the young woman had ever heard, well, except for the time they thought they would never see each other again.

"Just remember one very important thing little lady."

"What's that?"

"Should ya need us, for, any reason…" he trailed off.

The young woman gave a small smile, tears slightly glassy from both fatigue and unshed tears at the loyalty of her friends. "I'll call." She finished.

"Huh, I'm rooming with a junior my first year there." Miles away, said the other.

The incoming freshman's friends took this as a positive. "Just think, you'll have someone who already knows the ropes to help you out. Won't that be great?"

"Even if they're the most wonderful person in the world, they won't be you guys." She replied morosely. "I wish you guys could come with me."

"Don't you worry honey, we'll still find a way to talk. We might even try using the phone again after all these years." Said a man.

"Oh please" a woman quipped. "You know how that turned out the last time. They had to rewire the whole house."

"Well maybe the new wiring will handle better." He rebutted.

A throaty chuckle filled the air. "Maybe." She acquiesced.

The youngest of the three watched this exchange and smiled. If she hadn't met them, her life would have been different. Darker and more deadly. More ebony than the pleasant gray it was now.

Ah, September. When the warmth of the summer sun still lingers, yet the fiery hues and soft muted grays of the sky stark to subtly sneak in. The autumn was most beautiful in New England, evidenced by the tourists not just from all over the country but even from around the world, flocking in to the leaves glow and fall. And in Salem Massachusetts it was no different. In its university campus students gathered. Some meeting friends again, some finding new ones, some uniting against a new pond in which they were yet again the little fish, and the older, more seasoned ones ready for summer to come once again.

Among these students, a self-confident young woman strolled across the campus. Many who laid eyes on her would say she was stunning, and she was. However, they would all agree there was something off with her. Despite her warm smile and endearing nature she always seemed a step out of reality. Some hidden aura radiating that the warm attitude was like a small campfire, enjoyable enough, but do something wrong and it could become an instant inferno. It was a warning to all not to get too close.

This young woman loved the fall, especially here on campus. But then again, the whole town just exuded mystic and charm and, though she would never admit it aloud, magic. It had been what drew her here in the first place. But, she reasoned, it was probably part and parcel to being the site of a gruesome inquisition that had taken place almost three-hundred years ago.

And yet despite all that, this place had become a home away from home these past two years. And she thought that if she could find a well-paying job she might just settle here for good. Would she return to New York? Of course, her family was there and she still had some hopes of making it big as a Broadway actress, following in her mother's footsteps. But still, the attitude here was infectious. And she was never lonely, if she needed someone she knew her friends were only a thought, and a mirror away.

Pulling out the letter she'd received a few weeks prior she looked at the name of the dorm building she'd been assigned to. Slightly on the fringe of the campus was an old dilapidated mansion, the official name was Parris manor, in honor of the family who'd started the events which had landed Salem in the history books in the first place, but most students called it the Crypt. It was rumored to be haunted, as no one could stay there for more than a month without begging the head of student life to put them somewhere else or snagging the first available apartment nearby. She had heard tale of one student leaving the school all together after spending a week there. No matter, she had handled worse than a supposed haunting, she could handle this. Tightening her grip on her bags and that paper in hand, she marched towards her new temporary home.

Meanwhile another young woman, was searching for the exact same building. Sighing at the inability to accurately take the images of a map and bring them into the real world she looked around. There, at the far edge of campus, oh she liked the look of that. It would make a great subject for some photo expeditions. A grin tugged on the corners of her mouth, and the edges of her lips quirked, a reflex that had grown more and more prominent the more time she'd spend back in Connecticut.

Despite the exterior looking dark and foreboding, the inside was more welcoming and warm. She was in room 313. Looking around she saw no elevator, but rather a grand staircase that opened up into the main foyer. Well, she didn't have much anyways so it wasn't that bad. Lugging her things up the three flights of stairs wasn't even that bad, if a little monotonous in her opinion. At last, room 313. She slid her key into the lock and turned the knob. The room itself was spacious, but still contained two beds in the same room. She saw someone bending over one of the beds, an opened and partially unpacked suitcase lying on top of it. Ah, must be that junior roommate of hers.

"ahem." She cleared her throat, and the other female turned around. Long hair the color of dark chocolate framed a pale heart-shaped face. Green eyes the color of forest foliage looked back at her. And for her part the other woman was examining her carefully. She wasn't anything extraordinary. Pale skin almost untouched by the sun, medium length ebony locks, and eyes so brown they almost looked black. That was about it.

The brunette stepped forward. "So you're my new roommate huh?"

"Yep."

"Well, I suppose it's kinda redundant since we got those letters but I guess we should properly introduce ourselves."

"I guess."

"Sarah Williams." She said sticking out her hand.

The dark haired girl looked at the outstretched hand for a moment before cautiously taking it.

"Lydia Deetz."

so, more a prologuey exposition beginning than I usually do, but hey like a I said, this is a writing exercise for me to test my abilities. now it's time to tell me what you thought. liked it? tell me what you want to see more of. hated it? tell me what I can improve on. however, let it be constructive criticism, don't just flame me because it pisses me off and doesn't help either one of us. okay, I leave the fate of this potential story in the hands of you guys. good luck!