Now I suspected this was another trick


    My defenses were up when I heard a small ‘hic’


    Sat on the TKTS steps of red


    Thoughts of a fight quickly left my head


    Her face was flushed, a bottle in her hand


    Don’t need to eat, but get drunk we still can


    “The fuck” I asked, “happened out here?”


    With time and slurred speech, Red made it all clear


    I’m sure you all remember COVID-19


    And the year it caused a worldwide quarantine


    Schools, film sets, Broadway all were shut down


    No going shopping or just out on the town


    Now I was here and finally free


    Just in time for the whole world’s ending


    I sat with Red, swigging the booze


    Gazing at the streets, taking in this news


    The date was what I asked next


    April 2020 ended the hex


    So I was trapped for almost two years


    Conflicted with anger and sorrowful tears


    She told me that I burned her only home


    That without Finn, now she was all alone


    I only said ‘Now you’ll know how it feels’


    Mounting Sandy the worm, who needs wheels?


    I left Red behind, no looking back


    Future meetings with her, I hoped I would lack!


    If you wonder just where I would go


    The Winter Garden, Beetlejuice’s former home


    Running on instinct, it just called to me


    There was no other place I’d rather be


    It felt warm and like I always belonged


    The air was filled with decades of songs


    I found a striped couch, upon it I lied


    And though it smelled bad, I lay there and cried


    My journey thus far had been rather bleak


    So don’t you dare try and say that I’m weak


    Kidnapped, tortured, kept more than a year


    This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    Forgive me if, just for a moment, dear


    That I felt all the pain, despair and fear


    When I could finally stop it was clear


    This had damaged me beyond all repair


    But since ghosts get no mental health care


    There really wasn’t much else I could do


    But have a look in the place I’d come to


    The Winter Garden on 50th street


    A classic theater that can''t be beat


    Seats sixteen hundred, a rather large stage


    Year one nine one one to the golden age


    Holding Peter Pan, Carnival, Gypsy


    Funny Girl, Camelot, Cats recently


    School of Rock was here but fuck all of that


    Beetlejuice closed here at the drop of a hat


    Now sitting empty, just like the rest


    It almost felt like a bird’s empty nest


    There was an energy through the whole place


    Like it was crying though it had not face


    This place, active for more than a century


    Now, bare, dormant with no end to see


    These floors which felt walking, dancing feet


    Nothing but wind floated between the seats


    The Garden had a spirit of its own


    It welcomed me as if I’d come home


    I wandered the halls just like a specter


    Getting to know each room and sector


    Belongings were still inside dressing rooms


    Personal things, a garden, and costumes


    The stage itself I had saved for the last


    Ran out of places to go pretty fast


    Standing in the wings that air felt alive


    I could feel the shows, the people and drive


    This is a place where stories are told


    Eight time a week, the lights were rarely cold


    Except right now, for all but one was dark


    The ghostlight stood tall, casting shadows stark


    Meant to keep all the theater ghosts pleased


    Must not work, because I am not appeased


    Am I a ghost? I keep having to ask


    So, sat in a seat, I took to the task


    Once again, I thought upon what I knew


    Just to figure out something I could do


    My body can change through power and will


    Bound by my source and his character’s skill


    Beetlejuice could breathe in the witch’s sea


    But at the end Dewey came over me


    Or some other mortal, that’s why I choked


    Then locked into Finn until the cage broke


    So forcing another into a role


    Something, to her, at least, was possible


    I escaped, or maybe she set me free


    Became the demon, using my fury


    I conjured a snake, threw balls of flame


    Changed my appearance, easy, like a game


    All this power, but most people can’t see


    That very first night, nobody helped me


    As I thought more on what exactly I am


    I began to see what I can’t do and can


    That air on the stage, that’s where I started


    Feeling the eyes of the Garden imparted


    Reaching out I could hear songs in my head


    Focusing on it to see where it led


    Like choosing a film on Netflix streaming


    Figments of show’s past played like I’m dreaming


    I see the theater’s recollection


    The Garden seemed to have no objection


    So I sat in the front, watched all the shows


    Brightman performed so my knowledge grows


    Across the stage phantoms of the past danced


    I sat in the seats completely entranced


    Seeing the changes each performance had


    Dropped lines, perfect turns, both the good and bad


    Learning everything of what I could do


    If using this source which I am apt to


    His powers, he has a rather long list


    Let me say a few so you get the gist


    Illusions and reality bending


    The possibilities are unending


    Taking a moment that was much needed


    I started making rules to be heeded


    Use Beetlejuice as little as I can


    For I feel I’d get lost, given the chance


    As tempting as the power can be


    It is, to a terrifying degree


    Far closer than I think that I can take


    To being a god of sorrow and hate


    The destruction that I could bring about


    Serious scorched earth I have no doubt


    I felt it that day I escaped the school


    To ignore that face, I’d be quite a fool


    I will not become the thing that Red feared


    Though a part of me is forever seared


    That wants the whole world to burn, reset


    I hoped it’s a chance I would never get


    I understood more the fear that Finn felt


    They could not handle the hand they’d been dealt


    Hoping that I can somehow do better


    So my rules I’ll follow to the letter


    Most of my time in the Garden was spent


    Watching shows without spending a cent


    Shows that played here had left their mark


    I could see their echoes in the dark


    These moments of time hung thick in the air


    I wondered what shows I could see elsewhere


    The St. James presented Frozen only


    Don’t think it liked me, made me feel lonely


    The Garden loved me and showed me it’s past


    I knew I could see shows Brightman was cast


    So I went to the Gershwin for Wicked


    A munchkin was who Brightman depicted


    Boq was his name, he becomes the Tin Man


    This prequel of Oz for years had been ran


    Full of glamor and heart I’m not surprised


    Almost twenty years playing recognized


    Could not see Idena or Donna V


    Kerry Ellis and Marcie Dodd I’d see


    Playing the titular Witch of the West


    Only what Brightman was in, not the rest


    Even free of Red I was held tight


    Bound by my source like a parasite


    He’s hovering metaphorically


    Controlling my actions, haunting me!


    Only so much I can see the same show


    So I asked my instincts where I should go


    A few blocks down to fifty four below