Beetlejuice. Or the ‘Shrek Demon’ you called him as a joke. The dead dude who would always pop up at the most random times and literally only tries to get you to say his name three times in a row.

He was almost a father figure of some sorts to you…sometimes. Sometimes he just seemed like an older brother that only taunted you, and other times, he seemed like a sweet, caring man slightly.

He didn’t know that you were even more suicidal than Lydia was, even though you were a fourteen year old. The one singular day he was late on his, what you called, ‘Three BJ’ time, you decided to attempt…’offing’ yourself.

Before you could manage, he eventually arrived in your room with his cocky, Beetlejuice self.

”Hey, hey, hey! Think you got the con— oh my everliving shit. What are you doing?!?” he started off calmly but then yelling at you. He wasn’t mad at you specifically…okay. Maybe he was. A little. But he was probably just concerned and confused.