A Siren
Ivy Sinclair had a very short temper. Within the confines of her delicate infant body, she held her preferences and nothing else as her top priority.
If she ever touched a fabric she deemed unsuitable, she would voice two-syllable warnings before completely breaking down until her demands were met.
“Ivy, you’re being rather fussy. What’s wrong?”
Ivy babbled a phrase, sounding a lot like she was saying the name of the famous band ABBA. Enid played their music occasionally just to torture Wednesday.
“Would you like to listen to music? I’m unsure of what you need at the moment.”
Ivy babbled the same thing again, waiting until Wednesday was able to solve the puzzle. She kicked her legs and flapped her frail arms to the best of her ability, and Wednesday’s eyes finally showed understanding.
“Not a fan of polyester, are you?” Wednesday had lifted her from the crib carefully, immediately letting the soft wool of her vest soothe the child. “I’d have to agree with you.”
Enid had changed the sheets of the crib immediately after she stepped into the room, smelling a faint scent of distress.
Taking care of Ivy came naturally to Enid; Wednesday could see it every time she cooed at the infant with love in her eyes. Perhaps it was the experience she got from her siblings or maybe even the Human Relationships class she and Wednesday had to take during the previous school year.
Enid showed more interest in watching Wednesday take care of Ivy, though.
In the 2 days Ivy had spent at Nevermore, Wednesday was able to decipher every single one of her sounds, almost as though she learned Ivy’s language. Her hearing became a touch more sensitive than Enid’s, picking up sounds of frustration from across the campus.
“...What are you implying by that statement, Principal Weems?”
“We need to talk about this in private. Preferably within the next two hours.” Weems took her eyes away from the flames that gently lit the room and looked at Wednesday. “Enid can’t be near Ivy during the full moon.”
Ivy protested heavily; her cries were unlike anything Wednesday had heard from her before. Her small chest heaved, her wide blue eyes shut tightly, and her limbs flailed. Deep, dark, desperate.
Enid rushed to comfort her, rocking and shushing the infant in her embrace, but to no avail. Enid’s frown deepened and her forehead drew in with concern. Her gaze ripped away from Ivy’s and landed on Wednesday’s, pleading for an answer.
“There will be no need for such a thing. Both Enid and Ivy are clearly content in each other’s presence.” Wednesday insisted, and Ivy immediately decreased her volume to a lower pitch. “I trust Enid to take care of herself and her own kin adequately.”
Weems was clearly disturbed by something. Wednesday missed her expressions of anger. The principal wore more tired looks recently rather than her passion-filled body language from one year ago.
“If there is any reason for you to object, speak now,” Wednesday pushed, “or forever hold your tongue.”
Weems took a deep breath, frown deepening. “I don’t know how to explain our predicament to you, Wednesday. And Ivy, you as well. You’re far too intuitive to not know what’s going on.”
Ivy let a beat of silence fall over the room before grunting in agreement. Enid’s eyes widened, but Wednesday was unsurprised.
“You guys,” Yoko jumped on her spot on the couch, almost invisible. “This literally cannot get any better! It’s a live supernatural TV show if I’ve ever seen one. Enid, you seriously should have told me to get my blood bags and popcorn–”
Wednesday rolled her eyes, and Enid gave her best friend the most betrayed expression. “I thought you came here to help?”
“I mean, I did,” Yoko admitted, “But I didn’t know it would be so entertaining!”
“Since you’re here to help, Yoko,” Weems said, “I suggest that you and I look after Ivy while Wednesday and Enid… go to the cages.”
A never-ending wave of silence finally overtook them all.
++
Before Parent’s Weekend, Wednesday did not hate her roommate.
Despite the lack of emotion, or perhaps due to it, Enid thought so otherwise. Her bubbly, overly affectionate side was always presented to everybody she met. Wednesday was usually included in that group. Nobody could escape from Enid’s overbearingly friendly love language.
“Sorry, Weds! I know you hate hugs, but I just can’t help it! I promise I’ll control it from now on! Could I borrow your sweater, though?”
Except when she fought with Wednesday, Enid’s touch retracted in her presence. Almost as though her subconscious was demonstrating an unfixable wound, as though no amount of cheap bandages could stop the blood loss.
“I don’t… I don’t need the sweater anymore. I just wanted to try out a new style or whatever, you can have it back. It didn’t work out.”
Wednesday doesn’t do cheap.
“Enid, I apologize for disappearing last night. I got you some coffee. The Weathervane had run out of soy milk, so I made your order myself. I figured you would prefer a cinnamon roll with it as well. I’m leaving all the items on your work desk.”
“...if you wish to seek my presence, I also bought a phone. My phone number is typed on the typewriter.”
Enid requested to wear Wednesday’s oversized hoodie through an abundance of texts that evening.
So yes, Wednesday and Enid fought, but there was always a solution to the problem. Wednesday did not hate her roommate, especially after Parent’s Weekend.
“Willa, I really didn’t know the messiness bothered you so much, I’m sorry. I’m naturally messy, so if we have to figure out another arrangement, we can always do that. I just want you to feel safe.”
“Enid, I need you to talk to me. I understand that you are upset, but I’m a psychic, not a telepathist. Tell me what’s wrong. There must be some way that I can help.”
They leaned on each other and learned from each other, differences always finding a merging point somewhere. Wednesday almost felt content with their arrangement as concurrent characters in each other’s lives, perhaps even more.
Until two nights after Parent’s Weekend ended, when a vision plagued Wednesday’s mind.
++
It was nighttime, and a waxing gibbous moon lit Wednesday’s path to Ophelia Hall with a silver glow.
Earlier during the day, Wednesday had defeated Bianca in a sparring match. The action brought her an indefinite amount of inspiration, putting her writing time in an important position. Alongside, she was considering purchasing a set of boots for her upcoming night of adventure with Enid. Her parents had urged her to do so.
However, as Wednesday opened the door to her dorm with an expert turn of her key, her plans stalled.
Wednesday heard herself walk over to Enid’s hunched form, staring at the kryptonite of a human wrapped in white silk blankets within a bassinet-like basket. The infant was illuminated with various colors of the moonlight coming from Enid’s stained glass window.
Wednesday heard herself ask her… roommate? She felt like more at the moment. “Is she your kin?”
Enid sounded as though she would break down at any given second.
Then suddenly Wednesday was holding the basket, holding Enid’s calloused hand.
A montage played in front of Wednesday, a life with Enid and the mystery child.
What did destiny have in store for her this time?
++
“It was a dream, Wednesday,” Enid shook and shook until Wednesday finally shot up from her corpse position. “It was just a dream.”
Wednesday does not dream. She receives messages through her subconscious.
“It wasn’t a dream. Could you… could you hold me?” Wednesday murmured, jaw clenching and eyes flickering under the gentle golden glow of the sunrise.
Enid sat down on Wednesday’s bed as she made space for her. “Anything you need.”
“I need you to tell me that you will never let me own a pair of boots specifically for our midnight walks,” Wednesday said as she leaned her head on Enid’s chest.
Enid waited a second before answering seriously, “...Sure, I can do that. I’ll never let you own a pair of boots specifically for full moons.”
“Have you ever wished for children, Enid?”
“What?”
Wednesday exhaled a little faster than usual, her version of a sigh. “Tell me honestly, Enid. Have you ever wished for children?”
“I mean, not anytime soon, no? But I’ve thought about it a little bit.”
“Don’t think about it too much,” Wednesday whispered, hoping her words were enough of a warning.
++
Cages were unacceptable for Enid. Her energy, ethics, and sanity relied on her monthly earthing. Enid could not miss this.
Wednesday voiced this concern, though her suggestion only bounced on the thick layer of tension that sat in the room.
“Perhaps I can take Ivy to a secluded area, somewhere Enid wouldn’t be able to reach. I truly cannot express how dangerous this could be. We must call Morticia tomorrow morning, she will provide you with resources for the future.”
So Wednesday and Enid went through their usual full-moon routine, disregarding the fact that Ivy was in an unknown place with only Weems and Yoko.
Who could they really trust?
When the pair finally made it outside and Enid went through her transformation, Wednesday could not help but notice the louder-than-usual howls of pain. Her wolf form was hunched, crawling at a pace that deeply contrasted her usual energetic races. Everything seemed to be more painful for her.
The night drew on, hours feeling like years. Thing was still abroad recovering from his near-death experience. Wednesday missed him, but she would rather give up grave-digging than admit that.
When the sun finally appeared on the horizon, Wednesday called over her wolf, though she had only strayed a few feet away.
“Are you ready to go back, Enid?”
Immediately Enid began to transform back into her human form, Wednesday turning around to allow her some privacy.
“I feel depressed,” Enid said in a hoarse voice as she put on a new change of clothing. “Why was that so hard?”
“Ivy is a Siren, Enid. She has you wrapped around her finger as though nothing else matters. The two of you have bonded. I would argue she almost did the same with me.”
Enid sighed, and Wednesday turned around when given permission. “Let’s go back. I hope… I hope nothing bad happened. I just have this feeling in me, Weds. I can’t stop thinking about her.”
Wednesday had worn her new pair of boots that night.