Chapter Text
“Did your mother tell you we were roommates back in the day?”
feminine and roughly the same height as Lurch if not taller. Unlike the Addams family preferred colour scheme of black: Larissa Weems was a vision in white. From her platinum blonde hair to her white power suit. The only colour to her was the crimson lipstick coating full lips.
There was a delicious dark tension in the air between her mother and this Weems woman. It was a curious thing. There was a subtle bite to her tone and Wednesday could sense her mother’s mild discomfort and not one of the pleasurable kind.
This woman disliked her mother, which in it’s self was strange for everyone loved Morticia Addams. Even normals found themselves entranced by her. Morticia was a difficult woman to dislike for most other than Wednesday.
Wednesday had good reason for disliking her mother, but this woman?
How did this woman come to dislike her mother despite her mother clearly believing they were friends?
“And you graduated with your sanity intact?” Wednesday said, her tone was detatched and cold but there was a subtle hint of wonder “Impressive”
It truly was impressive if anyone could with stand prolonged close proximity to Wednesday’s mother and retain any modicum of sanity. To survive years sharing a room with her mother, who even in her youth must have been just as obnoxious as she was now.
The knowledge of her mother and father’s romance starting in Nevermore would mean a young Larissa Weems subjected to the first bloom of their dark passion. The obnoxious nauseating displays of love. It was truly to the woman’s credit to survive such a traumatic feat, and to refrain from maiming or silencing a young and in love Morticia.
Wednesday was aware of her mother’s indigence but her attention was captured by the woman before her.
There was a stirring inside of her that she wasn’t sure she liked as she watched the woman.
“You’ve certainly had a very interesting educational journey” Larissa Weems said as she looked over what was presumably Wednesdays transcripts and records. They were hardly anything impressive, Normal school was as basic as it was dull “Eight schools in five years”
“They haven’t built one strong enough to hold me” Wednesday said, she would be proud of such a statement if Normal schools weren’t so pathetic. They hardly provided any challenge for her. “I bet this place wont be any different”
Wednesday felt a need to challenge the woman, a compulsion to shatter that mask of sweetness and smiles. The professionalism. Wednesday wanted to know what lay beneath. Wednesday had never had her attention so focused on another being before, especially not one outside of the family.
Wednesday didn’t care for her father’s pathetic pandering. Wednesday meant what she said and said what she meant. She was direct and upfront. She was not grateful in the slightest to be shipped off to her parents school and subjected to more of her mother’s attempts at moulding Wednesday into a second Morticia. Prison would have been a pleasurable preferable experience to yet another schooling, but Wednesday could not bare the shame of a failed murder attempt on her record. Those normal boys had deserved what happened to them, it was just a shame they lived. Though now they might have learned their lesson and will leave Pugsley alone.
The Weems woman to her credit did not seem any more convinced than Wednesday was by Gomez’s words.
Wednesday had issues a challenge, and it seemed her challenge had been accepted. Now only time would tell who would be the victor, though Wednesday didn’t have high hopes for the woman.
Wednesday listened with a vague sense of detachment as her mother discussed these so called ‘court ordered’ sessions with a therapist. Wednesday had no need of a therapist, a bleeding heart so desperate to fix the broken and despairing- a state Wednesday quite enjoyed being in. The idea of therapy was an absurd one and Wednesday felt a further stirring or resentment towards her mother for failing to save Wednesday from such unnecessary cruelty.
“We’ll see if she survives the first session” Wednesday said though she had no doubt of the outcome of these sessions. Wednesday doubted very much she would be seeing this therapist in Jericho twice a week.
“I’ve assigned you to your mother’s old dorm- Ophelia hall” Weems said pleasantly.
Clearly this was another ploy to force Wednesday to conform, to be a second version of her mother. Why was everyone so intent on forcing Wednesday to be Morticia? Why could Wednesday never just be Wednesday? Wednesday wanted to refute and reject the placement, but the name Ophelia caught her attention.
She turned to her mother, who wore a smug pleased grin
“Refresh my memory, Ophelia is the one who kills herself after being driven mad by her family, correct?” Wednesday demanded. Her mother gave a sly smile already aware in voicing such a question Wednesday had offered acceptance.
Ophelia hall. Ophelia’s fate was quite a fitting tale for the position Wednesday found herself in. Driven mad by her family, though Wednesday had no intention of killing herself.
She turned back to the Weems woman
"Shall we go meet your new room mate?" The mask she wore was near perfection, sweetness to her tone was sickening and cloying. Wednesday had heard normals speak to young children in such a tone. Young children and disgustingly adorable fluffy animals: puppies and kittens.
But Wednesday heard clear as day her challenge had been accepted
🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇
The walk from the office to Ophelia hall dorms was a surprisingly and irritatingly short one. As they walked through the hall Wednesday found herself boxed between her mother, father and her new principal. No doubt a futile attempt at ensuring Wednesday made no attempts at escaping. At this point in time Wednesday did not have sufficient information to execute a prison break, she would need a good plan and a better understanding of the surrounding area.
Weems went on ahead into one of the rooms, there were voices but Wednesday paid no attention to what was said. She also ignored her mother and father’s nauseatingly emotional sentiments and attempts at engaging her in conversation.
After several moments there was a call from inside the room. Wednesday was carefully ushered into the room by her mother and father.
The sight that greeted them was one of true nightmares, not the pleasurable ones. The truest ones. Even her parents stood in stunned silence. Colour. So much colour. Bright and cheerful and happiness. Horrifying and deeply traumatizing.
“It’s so… vivid” Gomez uttered.
Weems stood in the middle of the room with a satisfied smile. One Wednesday made mental note to get back at her for later.
From the other side of the room a sickeningly bubbly cheerful blonde, cute and adorable, wearing a blue pinstriped uniform came rushing to greet them.
“Howdie roomie” The girl greeted with genuine cheer and enthusiasm. It was horrifying how genuine she was, Wednesday could only stare in mute shock and horror.
This was Wendsday’s room mate? What a cruel and unusual punishment, Wednesday would be forced to endure. Did her parents know about this? Was this her mother’s idea of a punishment for Wednesday’s refusal to conform?
“Wednesday, this is Enid Sinclare” Weems introduced, her tone was filled with pride. Even the girl’s name was something cute. Why couldn’t it have been Maud or Mildew or something more tasteful than ‘Enid’.
“are you feeling okay” Enid asked with genuine concern, too much concern it was revolting “You look a little pale”
Wednesday was the perfect amount of pale, she’d taken great pride in her near corpse like complexion. Opposed to the disgustingly healthy hue of the other girl with her flushed face and bright eyes too full of emotion.
“Wednesday always looks half dead” Wednesday heard her father assure the girl.
Wednesday was stunned and horrified, her mind barely began processing the hellish nightmare she found herself in. She was beginning to wonder if it would have been better for her to have gone to prison, people would have known Wednesday had failed to do the job but that must surely be better than this? Prison time with Wednesday’s own kind of people must be better than this bright cheerful shiny slip of a girl. All soft and cuddly and vulnerable.
Wednesday’s horror further continued as the girl moved closer- not to attack Wednesday or engage in a duel, but it seemed the Enid creature desired to hug Wednesday. Wednesday instinctively flinched back closer to her parents.
The Enid creature stopped, but was still filled with bright enthusiasm that was sickening “Not a hugger got it”
“Please excuse Wednesday, she’s allergic to colour” Her mother explained, though Wednesday could detect Morticia was just as horrified as Wednesday herself was.
It was not in fact a lie to say Wednesday was allergic to colour, it was something they had discovered in her younger years. Too much colour had a severe and unfortunate side effect on Wednesday.
She had nearly died due to prolonged exposure, what an experience that had been. This Enid girl was like a poison. Wednesday's skin already tingled unpleasantly at the thought of that much colour for a prolonged period of time. though whether slow or fast acting death would follow only time would tell.
“Oh wow what happens to you?”
“I break out into hives and then the flesh peels off my bones” Wednesday answered truthfully. It was interesting though unpleasant. Hives and blisters that would form on Wednesday’s pale skin, which would peel and flake away.
The Enid creature seemed delightfully nauseated as she gulped.
“Luckily we have special ordered you a uniform” Weems said with that annoying polite tone Wednesday was coming to hate. turning to the uncertain looking girl “Enid please take Wednesday to the registrar’s office to pick it up along with a copy of her schedule” She said calm and pleasant with a bright encouraging smile that was so obviously fake, but the girl didn’t seem to notice or care.“and give her a tour along the way”
The girl had apparently recovered from her unease and was practically vibrating with joy and enthusiasm. Wednesday turned to her parents, she was not impressed or amused and if they left her here with this creature of light Wednesday could not be held responsible for her own actions. It would be self defence.
Her mother and father’s encouraging smile’s slipped away as they understood the warning Wednesday was presenting them, when Wednesday found her way out of this place. She was going to make them regret forcing her into Nevermore. Prison would have been a kindness.
Wednesday marched passed them ignoring the flourishing bouncing bundle of energy that was her temporary room mate.