beautiful, beautiful, beautiful (beautiful girl)

Enid Sinclair hated being alone.

It brought out the 𝘶𝘨𝘭𝘺 side of her brain. The side that Esther Sinclair somehow managed to infect; the side that tore down her every little movement at any given opportunity. That's why she had been so excited to find out she was getting a roomate nearly a year ago now.

Enid Sinclair hated that part of her brain. It made her panic, it made her cry. And Enid did not take panic and tears very well. (Hence the variety of scars scattered across her arms and thighs. And unlike the ones on her face, these were not inflicted by a Hyde.) But, as aformentioned, that side of her only really ever came out when she was alone. And luckily for her, since she now lived with her beautiful, amazing girlfriend, she was rarely ever alone.

Except for today.

Wednesday had her first therapy appointement since Enid had moved in to the Addams mansion. And no, Wednesday did not choose to reintergrate back into therapy, but the court demanded it, because apparently the murder of her old therapist wasn't enough for them to just 𝘥𝘳𝘰𝘱 𝘪𝘵. She had left at around 10am, giving Enid a kiss before going and telling her she would be back in around two hours.

𝘛𝘸𝘰 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴...

Two hours long for Enid Sinclair.

It only took about ten minutes of Wednesday's absence for the thoughts to come rushing in. 𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘩𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴, 𝘶𝘯𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘥, 𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘤, 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘺, 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘴𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘺, 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘱𝘢𝘭𝘦, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘨𝘰 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘪𝘦- you know, the usual.

She did what she always did and tried to distract herself. Scrolled on her phone for around fifteen minutes, did her makeup, texted Yoko and Ajax; but it was no use, the migraine-inducing thoughts just came rushing back at full force. They used to upset her, but after a certain point she just kind of got used to it.

That did not change the flood of panic that rushed through her veins, however. The panic of people finding out. Finding out that...that Enid wasn't the sweet, cheery, colourful girl that everyone thought she was; that she secretly kinda hated herself.

And she did. She really did hate herself.

She hated everything. From her body, to her smile, to her clothes, or the way she talked, or the way she laughed. Every little thing about Enid Sinclair had been critisised by her mother at some point in her life. And to anyone else it wouldn't seem like a big deal, but if chipped away at her. It made her want to change everything about herself.

But she couldn't. If Enid wasn't the person to make everyone else happy, then what was she good for? If Enid didn't smile, and laugh, and make corny jokes and wear bright pink and gossip and wink and be this sweet little innocent angel that everyone loved, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘦?

Nobody.

If Enid couldn't make others happy, she was a nobody.

A worthless, pathetic, skinny, scar-covered nobody.

The wolf let out a heavy sigh and sat herself before the mirror on her and Wednesday's shared wardobe, staring at her own reflection for what felt like hours. She was wearing a long sleeved sweater with a tank top underneath. She slowly lifted the sweater above her head, leaving her in a tank top. Scars out in the open, exposed. She hated it, hated them. From the pale thin ones along her wrists to the slightly raised pink ones on her forearm, there was nothing Enid Sinclair hated more than her scars.

And that includes the ones on her face.

There was four of them. One long, deep one across her forehead and three shorter and slightly more shallow ones across her cheek. She had shared this insecurity with Wednesday, who reassured her that they were beautiful and a "symbol of honor" as she gained them protecting someone she loved, something she knew her girlfriend had immense respect for.

But still, she couldn't help but look at them in pure disgust.

It's not like she regretted how she got them. Enid would do it a hundered times over if it meant her Wens was safe and okay. But it was just another thing Esther Sinclair used to drag her down. And she couldn't help but think...if she was 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳, if she was 𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘳, if she had just fucking killed Tyler Galpin when she had the chance, then they wouldn't be there.

𝘗𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘤.

Enid began to feel tears stream down her face, ruining her recently-applied mascara. Her breathing got heavier and her chest got tighter, and in her mind, there was only one way to fix it.

And so, Enid reached for her phone and took off the phonecase, revealing a hidden blade. Enid hadn't hurt herself since she and Wednesday got together five months ago, but she never got rid of it, just in case. She wondered into the bathroom in her and Wednesday's room and grabbed some tissue, and then grabbed ahold of the blade.

And then Morticia walked in.

☟︎︎︎

Enid Sinclair looked up to Morticia Addams. She was a good mother, and a loving wife, and all around just a badass woman. The two hadn't really spoken much since Enid's arrival, but the wolf truly admired the woman. From what she had heard from Wednesday and Pugsley, she was like a walking saint.

Well.

A saint that dressed in all black and made jokes about murder more than a regular person should, but a saint nontheless.

So when Morticia Addams walked in on Enid laying on the floor with a tear-stained face and a blade in her hand, the younger girl just felt such 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘮𝘦. This 𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 shame. Morticia didn't say anything, and neither did Enid, they just both kind of stared at each other, ublinking.

"Enid..."

"Okay, shit, shit, shit-" Enid began to panic, standing up from the floor and dropping the blade. "Okay, okay, I-I know this looks 𝘣𝘢𝘥, okay? But um...it's really not! I was-I was-uh-I-" she stammered over her own words, trying to make up an excuse in her head, but she honestly couldn't think of one. I mean, what excuse could she really come up with. "𝘖𝘩 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘩, 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘰 𝘤𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘴! 𝘠𝘦𝘢𝘩, 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘩, 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘩, 𝘢 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘢 𝘣𝘭𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘨𝘰 𝘤𝘶𝘵 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘴. 𝘠𝘶𝘱. 𝘛𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘴."

"Enid." Morticia repeated, as soft as before, trying to relax the panicked girl. "Breathe. Okay? 𝘉𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦."

Enid slowly breathed in through her nose and back out through her mouth, trying to compose herself as quickly as she could. Once her breathing was under control, she let out a sigh and let out a quick, "Sorry."

"Don't apologise, my dear." Morticia shook her head, guiding the girl over to her bed. Enid followed her, honestly too tired to even try and whimmy her way out of this one. Once Morticia was facing Enid, she looked down at her with a look of sympathy. "Why were you going to do that to yourself, 𝘵𝘰𝘪 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦?"

Enid breathed in. Well, there was no going back now. "It's dumb, honestly. It's just...whenever I'm alone, I get...these 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴. I've been okay for the past year or so because I've constantly been with Wens, but...after everything that happened, being alone today just kind of set it all off again. And whenever those thoughts come into my head, I just...I start to panic. And I've never been able to go to my mom because she's the fuckin' cause of all this. So...so 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴..." she gestured towards her scars. "This is the only safety net I've ever had, I guess? Like I said, it...it's stupid."

"It's not." the raven-haired woman denied. "It's not the best coping mechanism, I will tell you that, but it's not 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘱𝘪𝘥. It's all you have ever known. I truly wish your life had been better, Enid."

The blonde sniffled, eyes welling up yet again. For a family so stoic, the Addams sure did have a way with words. "Yeah..." her voice cracked. "Yeah, me too."

The two sat in silence for a short moment before Morticia moved closer to the young girl. Enid reminded her deeply of a woman she once knew. She hadn't had the best of lives either. Morticia was only young then, she hadn't been able to help her, but she was determined to help Enid. "Enid, your mother...your mother is gone. She's far away, she cannot hurt you any more." she placed her hand on Enid's smiling softly. "And I'm here. And so is Gomez, and Wednesday, and Pugsley. Even Pubert adores you."

She placed both her hands at the side of Enid's face, running her fingers along the scars. The scars she had got saving her daughter. The scars she had got risking her life to save her little girl.

"You are a beautiful, beautiful, 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘶𝘭 girl, Enid Sinclair." Morticia noticed how Enid was now letting her tears fall freely, and she simply wiped them away with her thumb. "A 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘶𝘭, 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘶𝘭, 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘶𝘭 girl. And I love you, okay? I love you. And so does Gomez, and Wednesday, and Pugsley, and little Pubert. We 𝘢𝘭𝘭 love you, and harm will never come your way again whilst we are here, okay? I promise you that."

Enid leaned forward and pulled the woman into a bone-crushing hug, which she returned, stroking Enid's hair whilst the other rested on her back.

Enid Sinclair never had a loving family. A mother who critisised her every move, a father who never had the balls to defend her, and three older brothers who looked down on her like she was a piece of meat yet to be cooked.

But despite all the Addams family's weird little quirks, one thing she would come to learn is that they were definitely better at 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 a family than the Sinclairs.

Once an Addams, always an Addams.

And Enid Sinclair was a 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 Addams.