Chapter Text
"We simply gathered here today. For our former student Wednesday Addams. Not many people may have liked Ms Addams. There was a lot to dislike. But she died, for our school, for my school. She faced the danger that we were meant to face. She did it alone, as a result of underestimating herself, she should have never dealt with what she did alone. Which is a lesson to you all."
Weems stood, her hair all done up. A big patch of bandage on her shoulder, wearing a black dress. She had this expression that was as if she didn't want to cry, biting her lip so tight that you saw it wasn't just the lip stick.
There was silence.
This deadly silence that pierces through the hundreds of people at the gathering.
Blaring yet so silent, the rain pours, leaving them freezing on their heads, yet dripping off their coats.
A blonde girl emerged from the seat that she was sitting at, and she walked up the aisle. Followed by looks of sympathy. Her heart gives a pulse and gives her stomach a sick feeling, she fiddled with the silver rose clipped to her dress.
She reaches the altar that had the casket behind it, glancing at the dead girl that was still the same type of pale she would've been if she was alive.
"Hell…Hello. Everyone, I'm Enid Sinclair. I don't know how to start this." She looked down at the speech she had prepared, sighing. Words on paper weren't going to get out how she truly felt. It was what the school had recommended.
"I knew my roommate Wednesday Addams for a short while. Not for long, maybe 8 months? But through the time we were together, I learned so much about her. I learned that as head strong as she could be, she was definitely a softie at heart. She's probably laughing at me in her casket, because I'm wearing black and not some bizarre dress."
Enid glances back at the casket that was unfittingly white. It wasn't black. It didn't seem to match with Wednesday at all. She hoped she would laugh at her for wearing black. For her to rise from the dead, to give her a snarky comment. That she finally was wearing some real colour or that she looked dumb.
She was really hoping.
Hope is so stupid in a time grief. She's dead Enid.
"She died a lonely death in crackstone's crypt. She bled out, with a knife stabbed into her side. Alone. She died alone. I remember she said we all die alone, which at the time, I was my brooding werewolf self, but now I think about it she died alone. She had no one."
It was true. She had died alone. Without anyone. She saved Weems, which made her weak after being stabbed once. The next stabbing was in her Lower Abdomen on her left, her entire insides collapsed because of how hard Crackstone twisted the knife.
They said she had been laying there for 2 hours. Dead. Because no one could find her.
No one could find the girl who had been stabbed.
The girl out of her own stupidity died for this shit hole. She was stupid enough to protect it.
What if she had tried to stop her?
What if she didn't let the investigation go any further. She could've stopped it.
She felt her breath hitch. The people of the so-called audience were staring at her.
"Wednesday Addams was a great person. You all never gave her a chance, you led her to her death. You should be ashamed. Ashamed that you try to feel bad for someone you didn't even know. Someone who saved your asses."
Enid looks to everyone in the open cemetery, they're battered by the rain. Weems looking at her in a disapproving way, the way your mother would look at you when you've done something wrong.
She knew this speech was supposed to be something that made the school look good.
She wanted to watch it burn. To watch Weems burn with the school. This was Nevermore's fault. This death was Nevermore's fault. Nobody else's.
"Nevermore, I love you so. But you let one of your students die because you wanted to save yourself."
This was the last straw with Weem, she came up slowly, approaching her. They stare at each other for a second and then at the people watching. She felt a million eyes shift to her.
"We'll have a talk."
"You're complete bullshit."
That was the last word before she left being kicked off stage by Weems. She went back to her seat where she sat with the Addams. She was assigned to them as the person who found their daughter and was close with her.
They however looked numb. The three definitely looked like they were still trying to process this deeply. Pugsley was deep in his thoughts, staring into the distance paying no attention.
Her heart bled for him. She knew how close they had been. Whether Wednesday would admit that she didn't know.
He was definitely devastated.
Especially now being the only child in the family. No older sister to go to when he's down, no sister to laugh with or at, no sister to argue with, no sister to ask for help, he had no sister.
He had lost an important piece of his family.
He looked dead in the eyes, his gaze so tired, he looked like he would pass out.
Gomez and Morticia seemed like they didn't care. They most definitely did, whenever someone spoke on Wednesday. They'd tighten their grips. They'd hold each other best they could, to soothe this agonising pain.
They would hold back tears when everyone would say something about her, something nice and something that isn't bad or calling her weird. They were seeing her in a good light, they hadn't realised the effect she had on people.
She realised that as strong as they made themselves to be. This strong goth-like family that was mysterious at heart, were just humans. They couldn't even comprehend that their daughter had taken on a Hyde and a man that brought cruelty to this land years ago.
They hadn't realised how brave she may be.
They never realised anything of that sort.
She saw Thing sneak out from the bag that was on Pugsley's back. Simply clutching himself around his family member's shoulder.
She sat, being watched by others for what she had said. It was the truth that needed to be heard, they should be ashamed of themselves. They shouldn't get to grieve someone they didn't care about.
She cared about her.
She was the one who found her dead.
She took that knife out of her side knowing she was gone. That she was too late. She wanted to blame someone else for her mistake.
She needed to, she didn't want to believe it had happened. She couldn't believe it happened.
Her hands still shake at the thought of pulling the knife out.
She remembers the feeling of the handle, the leather that was cool on her finger tips. Her screaming a haze of her screaming thoughts.
Shaking a lifeless body that she knew wouldn't have life again. She even died in the uniform.
She couldn't be here. She couldn't be like this. Her claws grow every few minutes when her festering wound of anger tries to consume her whole.
This is the moment she regrets.
Enid got up in her haze and left. She left her best friend's funeral. This is where she genuinely feels like shit.
Because why would you do that?
She was so overwhelmed by the fact that Wednesday Addams was gone. That the girl who said she would die alone died. Alone.
It irks her to the point where she'd rather be numb about it all. To not have these thoughts or to not be in sorrow.
She was going to Crackstone Crypt.
That's where she had decided to go. She needed to retrace her steps. To get back to where she had found her. This just couldn't be happening. There has to be something.
So it was her delusion that led her to the fallen founding father of Jerchio's Crypt. She was led to believe that Wednesday had left some clue.
This pain was going through her entire body while she walked through the forests that hold more secrets than truths. She felt very sick, like she had gotten a bug and she was ill and the thought of wanting to get sick crossed her mind multiple times.
She wanted to get sick.
To purge her system.
But before she could do so, she stood outside Crackstone's Crypt.
Memories of the Pod Cup flooding her mind. The way Wednesday was slightly smiling at their win, they had worked together and that's when she had thought that they had made progress as friends.
It was the most memorable Poe Cup she ever experienced. Because of the witty girl knowing everything, how Bianca won every year, how they'll defeat them.
She knew from that moment on there was hope for their friendship.
Too bad the last moment they had together was saying goodbye.
It would technically be their last.
Thing never got to her in time to tell her where Wednesday was. She was innocently making out with Ajax thinking nothing of it, her need to block her roommates absence with the romantic stuff seemed to have worked for only so long.
She feels selfish knowing she was there letting herself devour Ajax, while her best friend was dying for everyone in this shithole.
The crypt had been burned down slightly after Crackstone broke out from it.
But otherwise she slowly descended the stairs to the dreary auditorium-like place with a very ugly grave in the middle that had been opened.
She saw flowers where she had found Wednesday dead.
They were all dead within the week.
She looks around at the chiselled area, she looks up again to see the shackles that she assumed kept Wednesday from using her hands. They smelled of her scent.
Her blood too.
Enid tears up. This couldn't be it.
She had to find something.
She looked at where she had hidden the knife underneath all the rubble in the corner. She rushed over to it, to look for something. Then unearthing it, she looks at it.
In all its sinful glory.
This was what pierced her roommate.
She couldn't believe a simple knife had taken her out.
Staring at this, she felt rage build. Why? As well, even Tyler is being kept in a supernatural institution. He didn't have to be plagued with death. He didn't die.
Thornhill is still out there.
Why did they get away?
Why didn't you?
Why didn't you get away from Addams. Why were you so stupid. Why did you get in the way. WHY DID YOU GET YOURSELF KILLED.
All of these are questions that she wanted answered.
The knife being thrown across the room in her fit of anger. She heard its flimsy echo ring in her ear, she heard whistling, the knife coming back her way. She ducks easily. Her ears open for movement.
"Who's there?"
She examines around her. No one makes a noise.
Another few things fall.
"Show yourself!"
What could be happening to her now? Hopefully it was someone to stab her to death too, then she wouldn't have to be in pain anymore.
She was hopeful of this. But all she heard was nothing, she saw the knife and picked it up again. Flinging it in the same direction.
It was deflected by something and then a figure appears in it's way.
"Sinclair, what's with you and knives."