Woe is mine and I am woe

Wednesday x Enid

Part 1:

“Enid.” Suddenly she is running at me, a look of relief on her face but I can see the fear still etched in her eyes. Before I know what, I am doing my arms open slightly and embrace her crushing hug. Physical touch, ugh, but slowly I close my right arm around her realizing I cannot much move my left. The pain is starting to return in my shoulder, sharp. She rests her weight on my shoulders and there is pain but also something else. Is this relief? Is this how it feels to care? It dawns on me that the blood dripping on my arm is not my own but is coming from three gashes on Enid’s face. I pull away and exam her face. The cuts are deep and clearly painful, yet she does not seem bothered, how brave she has been. My shoulder throbs and my head begins to ache. “You are paler than usual Wednesday, are you okay?” Her voice echoes in my ears and my vision begins to fade into black. Death, not how I would have imagined, how pitiful to die from the wounds after the battle rather than gallantly during. “Wednesday!” Enid’s screech is the last thing I hear before the abyss takes me over.

Ow, pain, so much pain, delightful feeling. The world smells like flowers, horrible smelling. Even with my eyes closed I know it is too bright to be hell. What is that feeling? I cannot move my hand, is my arm paralyzed? A finger? I can feel it, I can wiggle my fingers, not paralyzed, good, thing would never let me hear the end of it. Then what is this on my hand? I pry my eyes open, one at a time, oh hell it is so bright here, it must be a hospital. Slightly tilting my head, I see father sitting on one side with mother next to him looking miserable. The smell, the flowers, overwhelming, seem to be coming from the other side. Enid, her giant pink, and orange jacket of fluff is covering her while she rests her head asleep on the side of my bed. Down, I look at my hand and sure enough she is holding my hand between both of hers, no wonder it felt immovable. “My little tormenta, how are you feeling?” Father has noticed me. I let out a little groan as it is all I can muster. I turn back towards Enid, looking at her sleeping, hating that I can’t be released from her grip without waking her but not wanting to do that. She did save my life from Tyler; I suppose she deserves to sleep. “Do you need anything Wednesday, are you in much pain?” Mother asks. “Would you like us to wake your friend? She hasn’t moved from your side, waiting for you to wake up.” I give a small head shake and winch as the pain shoots up my arm and neck. Sleep, I need more sleep, being awake is too exhausting.

The dreams that plague me, of Tyler, of Crackstone, the continue to wake me, will I never get the dead sleep I desire. The moments when I am at rest are overtaken by that smell, flowers, and the feel of her arms resting on my shoulders, of her hands clasping mine like she was afraid to let go even in sleep. I crave this torturous feeling but admit it does confuse me.

Woe is mine and I am woe - Part 11

Wednesday x Enid 

Full Work

New semester

It has been 37 days since Enid has talked to me about anything unrelated to school. And I despise myself for knowing that. At first, I wondered if she was simply readjusting and dealing with the awkward questions of what she did over the summer, why she hasn’t been updating her social media non-stop, and the one she seemed to avoid the most, why she spent most of the summer with me and if we were together. This question she either avoided like the plague or laughed off denying before quickly changing the subject. After a month of this I now believe whatever was happening has faded and decide Enid has made the choice to be nothing more than roommates. It affords me much more solitude and writing time without her constantly bothering me.

I had decided to resume my previous state of self in shoving any and all shreds of feeling down where they could not be reached and instead focusing on my studies and refocusing on my previously stalled search for my so-called stalker. Who is clearly either a Nevermore attendee or staff or a member of the Jericho community as I did not receive more than threatening emojis over the course of the summer. If Enid could shove her giant ball of emotions away when we were in proximity to each other than I can do it with my hands tied behind my back. That is what I thought I had convinced myself until Enid emerged into our room bawling and making a horrendous noise I could only compare to a screaming banshee.

Woe is mine and I am woe - Part 10

Wednesday x Enid

Full Work

The party is starting and of course Enid is taking forever to get ready. She has changed four times and redone her makeup at least twice. Why is she like this. Just put something on an be done with it.

“Enid are you ready yet, everyone is here.”

“I’m almost done! Just give me a minute.”

She emerges from our room and wow. I’m staring, stop staring, she looks amazing, tell her that, no she’ll know what I mean, so what, ugh.

“You look like a rainbow vomited.”

“Thanks…I think. You look amazing Wednesday.”

“Yes, well, let’s go, we’re already late.”

Woe is mine and I am woe - Part 9

Wednesday x Enid

Full Work

Sleep eludes me. No matter how I try, I cannot stop thinking of her. Even as her grinding canines grow increasingly annoying, I still can only focus on her smile in my memory. Then I see mothers face fill my mind. Her smug expression, thinking she knows things. She knows nothing of my life. I can’t stay in bed any longer. I get up and go down to the porch to see if the moon will grant me peace. Instead, I find mother standing staring up at the dark sky. She turns as I step outside as if she were expecting me.

Woe is mine and I am woe - Part 8

Wednesday x Enid 

Full Work

“Why are we hiding here Wednesday?”

“Quiet, Pugsley will hear you.”

Pugsley walks into the room and sits on his bed. I pull the string hanging down and watch as a bowling ball drops from the ceiling about to land on his unknowing head. Enid gasps and to my dismay Pugsley moves at the noise right before the ball crushes his skull, instead landing on his bed and bouncing to hit him in the back. He doubles over and cries out. At least there was still some satisfaction in the attempt. I look over to see Enid covering her mouth but staring at me with a mix of concern and anger. We return to my room silently.

“Wednesday you could have killed him!”

“But I didn’t.”

“That’s not the point! You were trying to and did hurt him!”

“I fail to see why you are becoming upset. I’m just ensuring he toughens up a bit.”

Enid smiles ever so slightly and attempts to stifle a laugh again covering her mouth. Before she can respond Pugsley walks in.

Woe is mine and I am woe - Part 7

Wednesday x Enid

Full Work

Lurch meets us at the station and assists us in packing into the car. We get home late. Nearly witching hour, mother will inevitably be seancing with the weather so perfect. Father stands at the steps waiting to welcome us home.

“Hello, my little storm cloud. And you must be Enid, we have heard so much about you from Wednesday.” I look over and Enid is already sniffling again.

“Oh, I do apologize!”

“N..no…I’m…. sorry…”

“She’s okay, pay little heed father. We are going to go unpack.”

“Okay my little viper, we had a spare bed moved into your room. Let us know if you need anything else. Sleep like the dead you two.”

Woe is mine and I am woe - Part 6

Wednesday x Enid

AO3 link to full work

This Chapter is a bit long.

TW: Homophobia

Next day

“What else do you want to see? Ooh! We could go to the bridge and then spend the day at the beach! That sounds like so much fun! What do you think?”

“Are you giving me a choice?”

“Of course, but your choice can’t be to go sit in my room and write.”

“Beach it is then.”

“Yay! Come on!”

Woe is mine and I am woe - Part 5

Wednesday x Enid

AO3 link to full work

End of the semester

My phone vibrates again, stupid thing, never stops going off. 

I should probably thank Xavier, but I know he had other motives for the gift. 

Also, it has given Enid a continuous and direct line of communication in which she never ceases to use. Daily texts, 3am TikTok’s, weekly facetimes, it’s agonizing. 

We haven’t spoken on the night of the movie, but she never runs out of other topics to drone about. Besides a few stolen moments of glances and brushes of our hands she hasn’t said a word. I have begun to think I imagined the whole event.

The only thing keeping me aware that I haven’t gone insane is that I can remember the feel and taste of her lips pressed on mine, that and the hope that going insane would be more enjoyable than this existence of dull uncertainty.