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“Wednesday?” Enid stirred in her bed. Her eyes cracked open through her eye crust and worked overtime to adjust to the darkness. “Are you okay? I heard noises.”
Wednesday’s fists gripped her pillow tightly. The skin over her knuckles felt like it was going to tear if she didn’t loosen her grip soon. “Fine,” she said through gritted teeth. “Go back to sleep, Enid.”
“Was it the Legally Blonde nightmare again?”
Wednesday seethed, her entire body vibrating with rage towards a curly haired barista turned monster. Ever since Tyler Galpin forced her to watch that dreadful movie during her first year at Nevermore, Wednesday has had nightmares off and on. Normally she welcomed her nightmares with open, inviting arms. It wasn’t a good night’s sleep without them. Nothing was more comforting than the terror gripping and clenching her heart in its cold grasp and sending her heartrate into overdrive. She relished in the feeling of uncertainty when she woke up wondering if it was only a dream or her new dark reality. But this nightmare in particular was more than unsettling. This nightmare burned through her flesh like demonic flames from Hell and left her reeling for days after. Pink, sisterhood, sororities, the bend and snap. She shuddered as she thought of herself in Elle Woods’s hot pink shoes.
Wednesday’s raven black hair was dyed blonde and pulled back in a perfectly styled ponytail. Her hair bounced back and forth cutely as she walked into the courthouse wearing hot pink shades and a tasteful pink skirt and blouse. The annoying ankle biter dog Bruiser trotted beside her. How she managed to get the dog past courthouse security she would never know. She smiled at her peers and the judge as her breathing in the real world came out in shallow breaths.
She won the case without the use of her typical cunning and ruthlessness, which was an utter mockery of who she was at her very core. Instead, she won with insipid and seemingly useless knowledge of hair and cosmetology. It disgusted Wednesday and had her writhing in her bed in a cold sweat. But possibly the worst of it all was when her love interest who looked eerily similar to Tyler, came up to her outside of the courthouse and leaned in for a victory kiss in a feel-good moment.
Thank Lucifer she woke up in time.
Sometimes the nightmares would vary. Sometimes she’d find herself in the hair salon doing the bend and snap while girls dressed in similar skimpy outfits clapped and cheered for her. Other times she would be forced to act out the scene when her boyfriend broke up with her. That always made her run to the bathroom to puke up last night's dinner after being forced to say the line, “You’re breaking up with me because I’m too blonde?!” in a valley girl voice. The worst of all was when she was launched into the musical version of the movie and had to sing and dance her way through the script.
Every time she woke up Enid with her whimpering, and every time Wednesday would politely tell her to fuck off.
“Yes, it was the Legally Blonde nightmare again,” Wednesday said harshly.
It was embarrassing being this disturbed by a silly nightmare, especially when it was because of a movie that Enid regarded as one of the greatest movies of all time. Enid’s side of the room looked like it was inspired by an Elle Woods Pinterest board, but it didn’t bother Wednesday. Sure, it was an eye sore and if she looked at it too long, her left eye began to twitch, but it wasn’t nightmare inducing. Nauseating, yes. Fuel for nightmares, no. Perhaps it was because she liked Enid and could get along with her. She could never get along with Elle Woods.
“Do you want me to sit up with you?”
“No.” Wednesday sat up and yanked the covers off of her body. Then she stood up and jammed her feet into her combat boots sitting on the floor beside her bed. On her way out, she grabbed her coat off the back of her desk chair and threw it on. “I’m going out. I’ll be back before you leave for breakfast.”
Enid nodded and sighed. Concern was written all over her face, but she knew better than to voice it. She leaned closer to the foot of her bed and saw that Thing was still sleeping, completely unaware of Wednesday’s concerning dreams. Enid had no idea where Wednesday went after waking up from her nightmares. She just figured wherever it was, it was to be alone.
That was only half true.
Wednesday wanted to be alone with the only person who could understand what it was like to be so profoundly affected by a nightmare that it made sleep impossible.
The walk to Ignatius Hall was always appreciated. The cold December wind whipped past her and blew her loose hair over her shoulders. The cold felt like pin needles pricking her cheeks and made her eyes tear up. She thanked the universe that she lived in a state where the air hurts her face.
The night was calm aside from the howling wind and the crunching of her boots in the crisp snow. Nevermore sighed silently in sleepy content as the academy slept soundly, tucked in their warm beds on a Tuesday night. When she got to Ignatius Hall, she noticed the window she was looking for was dark. Figures that he would be sleeping comfortably while she was tormented by her pink colored demons. It was like he chipped off a piece of his bad fortune and passed it on to her. It was a kind of sadism that she appreciated.
Xavier’s room was located on the third floor of the dormitory. As she stealthily climbed up the side of the building, she felt her mind clear up of all the negative energy that was clouding her thoughts since she woke from her nightmare. Concentrating on where to place her feet and gripping the brick with her small hands always had that effect on her.
When she got to her destination, she pushed the window open and climbed into the warm room. As of late, he had kept his window unlocked in case she needed to drop by for a visit. It didn’t really matter since she would have let herself in anyway, but it was his way of regaining control over her comings and goings. She thought it was cute that he thought he could control when she entered his space.
She slipped off her wet boots and placed them on the small welcome mat he had laid out by his door for this exact purpose. Then she took off her coat and draped it over his chair. She took a second to admire Xavier’s sleeping form. He slept on his side facing her. His long chestnut hair was splayed on his pillow in messy tangles and his mouth fell open in a noiseless snore. He looked so peaceful and serene, completely undisturbed by negative energy and unpleasant thoughts. She couldn’t wait to ruin it.
Pulling his blanket back, she slipped into bed with him and curled into his side. She told herself it was because his twin size bed was too small for the both of them to sleep on their backs. His shoulders were too board and her sleep too precious to be jeopardized by hanging off the side of the bed. She was not a cuddler and would never admit to enjoying the feeling of his warmth surrounding her.
Without opening his eyes, Xavier wrapped his arms around her waist. He was a notoriously light sleeper who could always tell when she came to darken his doorstep. “Hey Addams,” he said, voice gravely and groggy, “Legally Blonde nightmare again?”
“I am going to eviscerate Tyler Galpin and hang him up with his intestines,” she said.
Xavier smiled lazily. He loved when she got violent. “Can I watch?”
“You won’t even have to buy a ticket to the show.”
He squeezed her and kissed the back of her head. Instantly any lingering fear or unsettling feelings she had vanished. She felt comfortable and at ease in his arms. In the total darkness of his room listening to his steady breathing, it reminded her of why she started going to him after her nightmares in the first place. It was similar to the feeling she got after taking a relaxing ice bath after a long, productive day. Being with him was like taking a deep sigh of relief after completing a stressful task; satisfying and complete. He was like the shining light at the end of the tunnel. He understood her and what she needed without any words having to be passed between them. What started out as two fucked up kids coming together to share in their mutual grievances became something Wednesday secretly cherished and held close to her cold, black heart.
If she secretly snuck into his room on the nights when she didn't have a nightmare, she would never tell.
“Sweet nightmares, Wednesday.”
“Rest in peace, Xavier.”
In the darkness of his room surrounded by the smell and warmth of him, Wednesday fell into a deep, restful sleep where she dreamed of the decapitated heads and mutilated corpses of her enemies and her favorite tortured artist.