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The wine danced at the rim of Esther’s wine glass. For a moment, the woman fixated on the red liquid, a smile tracing her lips. The wine almost spilled. Not a drop dared to leave the glass, though, for even the wine seemed to know it was best not to upset Esther Sinclair.
Esther kept swirling the wine, stopping only to take a big swig and drain the glass. She set the glass down, glanced around the room, searching for the bottle of wine. Lazily, she stood up and walked towards the counter, stumbling and swaying.
“Mom,” Enid said, her voice tensing. “You’ve had enough.”
Esther rolled her eyes. “There is no such thing as enough wine, Enid. I’ll drink more if I want to. You know, wine is appropriate for breakfast, lunch and dinner.”
“Whatever,” Enid said. She tucked her feet under her legs and hugged her arms to her chest. “Just don’t come howling at me when you’re blackout drunk. Go find Dian or Conner this time.”
Esther growled. She poured a generous amount of wine into a fresh glass before leaving the room. Enid watched as her mother tripped on the doorframe, stumbling a fair amount. Miraculously, she didn’t spill any of her drink. Enid scoffed and turned on her phone, curling up against the armrest of her chair. She tucked her chin under her arm, her right hand tapping away at the screen.
As she scrolled through her messages, the werewolf opened one of her group chats. She typed out a message and sent it quickly, glancing up every so often to make sure her mother hadn’t come back to nag her about whatever nonsense came into her head.
Yoko was the first one to message back. The vampire seemed to be having just about as bad a Family Day as she was. Enid wrote out her feelings, venting about how she wished her mother would just leave already. Esther was never in a good mood to begin with, but she always seemed to be in an even worse mood whenever she got tipsy or flat out drunk.
Sometimes Enid wondered if she was the reason her mom was always in a bad mood. Esther had never seemed to like Enid very much, only tolerating her presence whenever she needed something from the youngest pup. She’d been called the “runt of the family” more times than she could count, but she always was there whenever mommy dearest needed help. It irked Enid that she still tried to put up with her mother, but what else was she supposed to do? Get kicked out of the pack for standing up to her mom for a change?
Enid scoffed. She wished she could do something that bold. She really, really did. But Enid knew she never could actually stand up to Esther Sinclair. She’d get a bigger beating than she did when she went up against the Hyde. She’d come out with a worse scar on her face than that Zuko guy from that Avatar show.
Standing up, Enid shoved her phone in her back pocket. She needed a breath of fresh air from all this family day nonsense. As she exited the school building, Enid’s ears picked up on her mother talking to a group of other parents. Enid felt her ears twitch as they concentrated on her mother’s voice. Esther was sitting on the edge of a table, her legs spread apart in a very unladylike manner. Enid scoffed. Her mother would always complain whenever she did that. She was about to pass by, walk away from Esther, but her attention was grabbed when she heard a very familiar name. She paused for a moment, anger building inside of her chest as she listened to what her mom was saying.
“-those Addamses, they can’t be up to any good. Have you seen them? They look like they just walked out of a horror film. Their eyes. I swear, if you look into them, all you will see is bloodshed and murder. Oh, I do not want that…that Wednesday girl anywhere near my child any longer…”
Enid’s blood boiled. She felt her claws extending, their sharp, pointy ends digging into her skin as she tried to hold herself back from attacking her mother. Her eyes fixated on the older woman, and Enid took a step closer to her mom. It took all her restraint to keep her from marching down to her mother and doing something she’d regret.
“You know, if it weren’t for that Addams girl, my Enid wouldn’t be as ugly as she is. I mean, sure, she’s small and pathetic, but honestly, those scars have really prevented her from finding a proper mate. And I’m sure having that psychopath by her, in her room makes it even harder. I think I might try to talk to that principal about moving her dorm room to something safer. I bet that…Koko girl Enid mentioned would room with her.”
Enid’s vision turned red. She stomped down the stairs, all the way to where her mother was sitting. Esther’s wine bottle was nearly empty, and she’d stopped drinking from the glass, opting for the far more practical choice of drinking straight from the bottle. Enid narrowed her eyes and puffed out her chest as she stared at her mother.
“Ah, Enid,” Esther said. “Just the pup I was talking about.”
“Zip it, mother,” Enid growled. “You owe me an apology.”
Esther huffed. “And why would I owe you that?”
“You know why!” Enid said, balling up her fists. “I just overheard you talking about my best friend-”
“Ah, ah, ah.” Esther waved her finger at Enid. She took a big sip of wine, draining the last of the bottle. As she placed the bottle down, she hopped off the edge of the table and strutted closer to Enid. “So what I’m hearing is, you were eavesdropping.”
“I was not-”
“You know, eavesdropping is a very unladylike thing to do, Enid.” Esther tapped her claw against Enid’s chest, and the younger girl tensed. “Everything you do these days, Enid, it’s out of line for you. That Addams girl has really changed you, and I don’t like it.”
“Wednesday has changed me for the better, mom,” Enid protested. “She’s helped me see there’s a stronger, better wolf inside and I’ve really brought her out, and you just never seemed to-”
“Enid Sinclair,” Esther said, her voice tense. “Today, you’ve been nothing but rude to me. You are nothing but a no good, lousy pup, and I will not tolerate that.”
“Mom,” Enid tried. Her voice hitched, and she dug her nails into her palms. The skin broke easily, and blood rushed to the surface. Esther surely noticed, because she took a big sniff and narrowed her eyes at Enid disapprovingly.
Esther shook her head. “And now you’re back on that self-mutilation nonsense. What, was that scar on your face not proof enough that you messed up? You gotta scratch and break your already messy skin? Those scars on your arms, you know that’s why I never buy you short sleeves. I made sure Weems won’t give ya that shorter sleeved uniform, too. Can’t have anyone seeing how you’ve messed yourself up. Inside, you’re just a freak.”
Freak.
The word echoed in Enid’s mind. Her thoughts amplified, telling her she’d be nothing more than just a freak. She always knew, deep down, that she was different, but hearing it from her mom hurt. It was like a dagger to her heart.
“I’m…” Enid’s voice broke. “Mom. I don’t, you don’t really think-”
“You don’t get to call me mom right now,” Esther said, her voice firm. “Right now you will call me Mother. I’m only your ‘mom’ when I’m your friend. And right now you’re not good enough to call me mom.”
Not good enough.
Those words Enid had heard a lot over the years. Yet, they sunk in like quicksand. Every time her mother said it, well, it hurt. A lot. It chipped away at her already detrimental self-esteem, and no matter what Enid tried to do, she could never build it back up.
“I…” Enid felt tears well up in her eyes. Her skin was itching, craving for her claws to sink deeper into it, and Enid could hardly ignore the feeling. She looked at her mom, regretting the decision to come down and confront her. How had she been so stupid? “First you insult Wednesday, and now….”
Esther made a zipping gesture on her lips. “If you speak back to me again today, young lady, I might just find a different school for you to go to. And stop doing that thing with your face. It looks pathetic.”
Pathetic.
Her face didn’t just look pathetic. She herself was pathetic, too. Every single thing she did was pathetic. From her music choices, her rainbow assortment of clothes, her hair…gosh, why didn’t she do better?
Enid took a deep breath in, trying to control her emotions. Or, as her mom might put it, her hormones. She tried her best to control her tone of voice, the tears welling in her eyes, though she wasn’t sure if she could do it right. She nodded at her mother, her brain racing with a million different comebacks, things to say to Esther Sinclair, though she knew she couldn’t say a single one of them out loud.
“Please,” Enid said. Her voice was pleading and small. “Don’t change my room. Don’t make me go to a different school.”
“I can and will take everything away from you,” Esther said. “All these privileges I’ve allowed you over the years. Everything that has shaped you into the person you are today. If you continue to backtalk me, go against my will. Whatever it is you think makes you rebellious, it can be gone in a snap.”
“Dad won’t let you do that,” Enid protested. “You know he won’t. And…you’re not being very nice right now. Maybe I’ll go find Weems and-”
“Don’t you talk back to me!”
“I will if I want to!” Enid said, her voice tense. “I don’t like that you’re here. And you’re being nothing but nasty to me. That’s all you ever are! Why don’t you do me a favor for once and get out of my school!”
“I will not!”
“I wasn’t asking!”
Esther growled. She unsheathed her claws and swiped at Enid, tearing through a layer of her skin. The burning felt amazing. Enid hated that she liked the feeling of the wound, the passionate pain searing through her. She felt her face, blood seeping into her hand. When Enid looked down, she saw her hand covered in blood.
“Enid, I’m-”
“Zip it.” Enid replied. Her voice was bitter, shaky, and laced with fear. It wasn’t the first time her mother had laid hands on her, and surely it wouldn’t be the last. The only difference right now was that they were in public, so Esther might actually regret it. “I am going to go to my room. And I really hope that you leave my school.”
“If you were a good werewolf, you would have dodged that,” Esther tried. But Enid had already started walking away, holding her face in her hand, trying to cover up the injury. “It wasn’t even that bad. I hardly scratched you!”
Enid bit back her tears and ran back to her dorm, a loud ringing noise in her ears. The words don’t cry repeating over and over in her head. Her heart pounds loudly. It’s like a drum solo, loud and obnoxious.
When she gets back to her dorm, it’s empty. Enid quickly starts up the shower, turning it to the hottest setting. The water runs, a calm, soothing noise in Enid’s otherwise panic-y era. She strips off her clothes and sits down in the shower, letting the water wash over her. She tries to take deep breaths, calm herself down, but it doesn’t seem to work.
The hard ringing in her ears is overwhelming.
Overwhelming. Just like the urge to dig into her skin. Deep and rough. Long jagged cuts on her arms. Her mother hadn’t cared when she started hurting herself. Not too much, anyway. Because the scars were smaller then. More discreet. And as long as the scars didn’t alter her already less than acceptable physical appearance, then it didn’t matter.
Enid looked down at her scars and traced over some of the more intense ones.
Intense. Just like Enid’s self-hatred. Why had she even let herself get this far in life? Would things even really change for her? Become easier? Maybe everything would be better if she just let herself die already.
The water poured over her. Enid ran a hand through her hair. It was heavy now, thanks to the water drenching it.
Esther’s words echoed through her thoughts. And everything she’d said, well, it had to be true? Because if it weren’t, then she wouldn’t say it. Her mom prided herself on saying the truth, no matter how ugly it was. And Enid, well…it was easy to see that she was more than just ugly. She was despicable.
Whenever she went out in public, she felt like she was a walking target of shame. Enid put so much effort into her physical appearance these days, a futile attempt to hide how ugly she really was. In the end, she tried many, many attempts to get her scars to fade. She wanted to hide the long, jagged, ugly scars. They were whiter than snow. A typical, stand-alone feature of her pain, and Enid wanted them to disappear.
And now she had scars on her face. The ones from the battle with Tyler, of course. But she also knew the scratches her mother left would leave a mark, too. How could anyone look at her and say she was beautiful when she was the living, breathing example of ugly?
Enid looked down at her arms. Tracing over the longest and lumpiest scars, Enid sighed. She closed her eyes and rested her head against the shower wall. Visions of fresh blood filled her mind.
Do it. You’re a freak, anyway.
The ringing in Enid’s head intensified. Her breathing pitched. Loud, uncontrollable noise echoed through her head. Tears dripped down her face, blending into the water streaming from the shower. Her lungs felt constricted. Tight, locked in place. She couldn’t get any new air inside. It was almost as though she was suffocating.
Breathe.
Enid echoed the word in her head, over and over again. Sending one single word through her mind, into the endless void of nonsense. It got lost, however. Drowned out by the screaming and yelling. The echoes of her mother’s voice, repeating over and over again.
Freak. Pathetic. Not good enough.
All descriptions that fit Enid perfectly. The drum solo of her heart got louder and louder. Enid felt her claws unsheathe as she bit back her tears. Her teeth sunk into her lip, hard, drawing the tiniest amount of blood. But the pain wasn’t enough. She needed more.
Absently, Enid’s hands dug into her scalp, pulling at her hair, yearning for the tiniest amount of pain. Her hands tensed as she sat in the shower, letting the warm, running water wash over her. Her breathing kept getting worse and worse. She was about to suffocate, die in this stupid shower, naked and exposed and-
Fuck.
Enid watched as the blood pooled out of her arm. The water quickly washed it away, but more kept coming out. It was enticing, really. Watching herself bleed. And the stinging, the pain, it helped calm herself down.
Three long slashes ran down her arm. Had Enid really done that? Had she hurt herself? So easy, without even thinking to do it? Enid took in a deep breath. It was easier this time, too. Self-harm had always grounded her in a way Enid never really quite understood.
And then Enid dug her fingernails into her skin, making a few fresh cuts. Gosh, it felt great. The ringing in her ears had nearly stopped, and she felt like herself again, almost. Slowly, she turned the water off and clambered out of the shower, trying to keep the blood from spilling on the ground.
Enid wrapped her arm with a paper towel, dried herself off, and threw on some clothes. Then, finally, she let herself look in the mirror. The scratches her mother had left behind were red and irritated, but they weren’t as deep as she had originally thought them to be, which was good. They’d heal with minimal scarring. It wouldn’t be as bad as the ones Tyler had left behind.
With a towel wrapped around her head to keep her hair from dripping all over the place, Enid left the bathroom and laid in her bed. Hugging her favorite bear, Enid pulled out her phone and called Yoko. The vampire answered after a few rings.
“Hey girl!” Yoko said, her voice chipper.
Enid forced herself to smile. “Hey! What are you up to?”
“I went out to town,” Yoko replied. “Div and I left the school, it was easier than being here. Didn’t you see my text inviting you?”
Enid checked her phone. She blinked slowly. “I hadn’t seen it until now, no.”
“You doin’ okay?” Yoko asked.
Enid nodded. “Yeah, just tired.”
“Get some rest then, girl,” Yoko said. “I know being around your mom can be tough, so just relax. She’ll be gone by morning.”
“Yeah,” Enid sighed. “You’re right.”
“I always am,” Yoko said. “See you tomorrow, pup.”
Enid squeezed her bear harder. “See you tomorrow.”
As she hung up, Enid stared at her phone, unsure of what to do with herself. For a while she just laid there in silence. Her arm burned, and her head throbbed. And really she should just sleep it all off, but Enid didn’t feel like sleeping.
So she just laid there. Doing nothing. In silence.
Enid jolted upwards when the door opened. In walked Wednesday Addams, dressed in her usual black attire. The girl looked like she’d just gotten back from digging pits or something, since she had dirt all over her face.
“What happened to you?” Wednesday asked, narrowing her eyes.
Enid’s eyebrows furrowed together. “I could ask you the same thing. You have dirt all over yourself.”
“I was performing a ritual, not that it matters.’’ Wednesday shrugged. “You are the one with scratches all over your face. Plus, your hair is slightly damp. You hadn’t bothered to blow dry it, which is beyond unusual for you.”
Enid’s face flushed. “Wednesday. I’m, like, totally fine.”
“At the very least, you will let me inspect your wound,” Wednesday decided. “I will not tolerate watching that scratch on your face get infected.”
Enid laughed mentally. At least Wednesday didn’t know about the other wounds she had. Her roommate probably wouldn’t even bat an eye at self-mutilation, knowing Wednesday’s background. But then again, it was Wednesday, so who really knew what her stance on anything would be?
“You really don’t have to worry about me.”
Wednesday blinked. “I know. So come sit in the bathroom with me so I can tend to your wounds properly. It bothers me to see your wounds this irritated.”
“Okay,” Enid sighed. “Thank you. For caring.”
Wednesday didn’t reply. Instead, she just walked into their shared bathroom. Enid followed her roommate, pausing outside the door. Wednesday stood in the doorway for a while, not saying anything.
“Uh, Wedns, why are we-”
“Where else are you hurt?” Wednesday asked abruptly. She turned around, quick, her eyes narrowed in concern.
Enid backed away. She grabbed at her sleeves, pulling them down. “I…don’t understand.”
“Where else are you hurt?”
“I got that part, I just…” Enid paused. “I don’t understand why you think I’m hurt anywhere else.”
“The blood on the floor.” Wednesday stated. “That is way too much for scratches that small on your face. Even if they were new.”
“What….” Enid paused.
Wednesday looked over at Enid, her eyes falling on her left arm. “Show me your arms.”
“Why?”
“You’ve bled through your hoodie,” Wednesday said, matter-of-factly.
“I really, really don’t want to explain this-” Enid said, hugging herself tightly. “And I don’t even know how to start, you weren’t meant to…”
“Enid.” Wednesday said. “Breathe.”
Enid took a deep breath. She closed her eyes and took another. Suddenly, the anxiety building up inside wasn’t that bad.
“It’s okay, you do not have to talk about it. I understand what you’re going through,” Wednesday said. Her voice sounded calm, almost caring, despite how much Wednesday herself might disagree.
Enid pursed her lips. “I know you’ve, like, grown up with torture and wounds, but…”
“I’ve also gone through a period where I’d hurt myself on purpose,” Wednesday admitted. “If that is what you yourself have done, then yes, I understand.”
“Do you think it’s wrong?” Enid asked. “That people who do it are crazy? Or stupid?”
“Come sit,” Wednesday said. She grabbed Enid’s hand and gently pulled her into the bathroom. Enid sat down on the toilet, pulling up her sleeves. She looked at the wounds. One of them was still bleeding. Enid grimaced.
Wednesday rummaged through the medicine cabinet, grabbing a box out of it with the initials WA on them. Enid had seen it once before, the night they defeated the Hyde. She tensed a bit as Wednesday pulled out a few bandages, then anti-bacterial spray.
“I thought you weren’t big on modern medicine,” Enid commented.
Wednesday raised an eyebrow. “What made you think that?”
“You’re you.”
Wednesday didn’t reply. Instead, she dabbed a paper towel at Enid’s cheek, cleaning it up the best she could. Once it seemed clean, she applied a cream and finally put on an adhesive bandage.
“Do you wish for me to answer your question now?” Wednesday asked.
Enid looked up. “The…”
“Is self-harm crazy? Or stupid?” Wednesday clarified. She prodded at Enid’s arm for a few seconds, then frowned. “You may need stitches.”
“What?” Enid squeaked. “I’ve never…”
“You will be fine. I know how to do it,” Wednesday added. “As for your question, no self-harm isn’t stupid or crazy. If I thought like that, then I’d be the one who was ‘stupid and crazy.’ What I think, however, is that the people who do it do not know how to deal with challenges in their personal life, hence they take it on themselves.”
“Yeah, but, like, isn’t it wrong to do that?”
“Perhaps,” Wednesday said. She rummaged through her kit, grabbing a needle and thread. “Is it okay if I proceed?”
“You sure you know how to do this?” Enid asked.
Wednesday shrugged. “Would you prefer a hospital?”
“You can start,” Enid decided.
“As I was saying, self-harm may be, in theory, wrong. But everyone makes mistakes. But if we had that black and white thinking, then chewing gum may be wrong, since it isn’t the best for your teeth. Or eating things that are too sweet or spicy. Instead of getting mad at the people who do it, the best we can do is support them and help them find a different way to cope.”
“I never knew you could be so sweet,” Enid said.
Wednesday narrowed her eyes. “Tell anyone-”
“And you’ll strangle me in my sleep,” Enid smiled. “I know.”
“I was going to say pry you apart limb by limb,” Wednesday said.
Enid rolled her eyes. “So, uh. Thanks for doing all this for me, Wedns. It means a lot.”
Wednesday continued to stitch Enid’s largest wound together. A moment passed, and she cut the thread. “It should be fine. I’ll check on this daily.”
“You won’t tell anyone about this, right?” Enid asked.
Wednesday, without missing a beat, says, “Of course not. It would not be my place. But if you’re struggling and about to hurt yourself again, come find me. I do not wish to see you like this again.”
“I’ll…” Enid gulps. She feels tears brewing in the corner of her eyes. She’d never known her roommate could care about her this much. “Consider it.”
Wednesday cleaned up the rest of the wounds, then wrapped them in a bandage, keeping it together with medical tape. “You should be good for the night. I will look at it in the morning to make sure everything seems okay.”
Enid watched Wednesday for one more moment before getting up. For some reason, her heart skips a beat when Wednesday awkwardly pats her shoulder. The two girls go back into the main section of the dorm room, and Wednesday is quiet for a while.
Enid sits on her bed. She picks at the corner of her bandage for a few seconds, unsure of what to do with herself. She was about to consider going to sleep when Wednesday speaks up.
“If you wish, we may watch one of those shows you like tonight. And I will not prohibit you from cuddling me.” Wednesday says. A second later she adds, “tonight only.”
Enid finds herself smiling. She quickly grabs her laptop and makes her way over to Wednesday’s bed. Together, the two girls fall asleep, curled up next to one another, watching some random old Disney channel show.
And when Enid wakes up, she totally doesn’t notice how her heart skips a beat when she realizes Wednesday is gently stroking her hair. And she definitely doesn’t pretend to be asleep for a few extra minutes so she can continue basking in Wednesday’s warmth.
Totally.
And despite it all, Enid slowly realizes that everything her mother says isn’t true. Because she ends up staying at Nevermore, in the same dorm as Wednesday, for a long time. And if her mother’s threats don’t come true, then who’s to say the way she thinks of Enid, and describe her is true as well?
Plus, Wednesday, from that day on, had made it her mission to show Enid she’s an amazing person inside out. And whenever Wednesday Addams sets her mind to something, she always, always finishes it.