Chapter 24
“How long before—”
Enid was unconscious before she could finish her sentence. It pained Morticia to watch her drink the poisonous potion, and it took everything in her to not step in at the last moment and take it herself. Wednesday was her child, she should be the one to risk her life to save her. Enid was their best chance, but it didn’t feel right, to ask her. And it felt even worse allowing her to go through with it. The poor girl had already been through so much.
She closed her tired eyes and released a heavy sigh, glancing at Gomez, the love of her life, and then at Pugsley, her precious and sensitive son. Then her eyes rested on Wednesday’s pale, unmoving figure. Her life hanging by a thread. Cursed to die a painful death, body and soul. She didn’t tell anyone, but she saw the curse as it was rewritten and Crackstone’s words were clear: “I will send you back to Hell” dooming her to not only suffer as the curse killed her but also to ensure that death would not provide relief.
This couldn’t fail.
Morticia tried not to imagine life without Wednesday. The very thought was unbearable and seeing her in such a vulnerable state was pure torment. Underneath her cold, defensive exterior she was a sensitive soul – though she kept that part of her locked away behind her walls to shield herself from hurt. She was fiercely protective of those she cared about, perceptive, intelligent, misunderstood. She was completely devoted to her family. They would be lost without her.
And Enid…she was probably the only person outside of the family who could see her for who she truly was. And her devotion to Wednesday was incredible.
She suspected that neither of them realized just how strong their bond was. But Morticia had seen how when Wednesday had been healed while dying in Enid’s arms, their bond had inadvertently become supernaturally impenetrable. In that moment, they became rare soulmates – much like her and Gomez. But it was different with them, still undefined but undoubtedly real.
If anyone could save Wednesday, it was Enid.
She just wished that she had been able to find a way to save Wednesday without endangering Enid in the process. And maybe she should have gone in herself. She was Wednesday’s mother, that alone could have been enough, and as her mother, it was her responsibility to keep her children safe even if it meant risking her own life.
But Enid was the one Wednesday’s subconscious cried out to for help. A fact that stung, and deep down, made Morticia feel a little jealous that her daughter would turn to someone she only knew for a few months over her. And yet it warmed her heart to know that Wednesday, after isolating herself for so long, had found someone who cared about her so deeply and who she cared about in return. But it hurt, knowing that she was allowing someone else to risk their life for her daughter.
As much as Morticia wanted to switch places with Enid last minute, Enid was their best chance, and Morticia was the one most qualified to make sure the ritual ran properly and smoothly. She couldn’t dwell on her regrets, if they wanted to keep Enid safe and save Wednesday, they needed to act quickly. She gently adjusted Enid’s body to a more comfortable position and took her left hand and Wednesday’s right. Across from her on the other side of the circle drawn on the floor between the two beds, Gomez took Wednesday’s left hand, being gentle and mindful of her injured shoulder and then took Pugsley’s hand and Pugsley took Enid’s other hand to form an oddly shaped circle.
“This circle will be their shield,” Morticia said, “if we break the circle, Enid won’t be protected, and she won’t be able to protect Wednesday. So, don’t let go.”
“What if they can’t find their way back?” Pugsley asked.
“They will,” she promised.
“What if they can’t fight this curse?” he asked.
Morticia swallowed, shoving aside her doubts and fears to smile at him, “No matter how bad it looks, Wednesday is still strong, and Enid will not stop fighting for her. Besides, they have us. Have faith my darling Pugsley. They can do this.”
She took a breath, hoping that she made the right choice, and began to recite the incantation. Once they got the words, Gomez and Pugsley joined in and they repeated it over and over until the three of them found a steady rhythm and spoke in unison.
She could feel a warm energy flow through her, in one hand and out the other and passing through everyone. An electric current made up of a piece of each of them, that connected them all to hopefully give Enid and Wednesday the strength to fight.
Morticia could only hope that it was enough.
~~W~F~A~~
The oppressive and lonely atmosphere of the world made Enid question if she really had what it took to save Wednesday. But she clutched the necklace tightly in her hand and trudged forward, searching.
Now that she was here, she remembered being in this world before, in her dreams. Morticia wasn’t wrong about that. She knew that now. Enid was sure she would know what to expect and how to navigate it despite the pure darkness that surrounded her. As she walked the thick fog and smoke kept its distance, creating a bubble of clarity around her.
Except this time, something felt different, the world seemed different, and she couldn’t tell how or why or if she was merely imagining it. But unlike the last times she had been there, she now felt like she had a target on her back.
“Wednesday?” she called out as she searched through the thick trees of the woods. “Where are you?”
From what she had remembered of her dreams, it didn’t normally take her this long to find Wednesday. But then again, she couldn’t tell how long she had been looking. It could’ve easily been a few minutes or a few hours. The fact Enid couldn’t even tell worried her. If the perception of time moved differently here, then who knew how long Wednesday had been fighting for her life, trying to escape a seemingly unstoppable foe? Outside it had been about two days since she had been cursed, and almost a day since she was put into a coma. But for Wednesday, how long had it been?
Far too long. She knew that much.
Long enough to forget who she was. To lose everything that made Wednesday, Wednesday. Long enough for the world to turn her into a small broken thing, barely holding on. Only kept alive to prolong her torment.
What if she found her, but there was nothing left?
No. She was going to find her. She was going to save her. She was going to do whatever it took to help her find herself again.
She was going to find Wednesday. She was going to trap and contain the curse that invaded her mind and body. She was going to get her out. And then Wednesday will be fine. She had to be. And if not… Enid didn’t want to entertain that possibility any longer. But either way, Enid was not going to leave her side.
As she continued her search, she became more frantic.
Not only was she desperate to find and save Wednesday but the longer she was in this place, the harder it was to find the strength and motivation to continue, even though all she cared about was Wednesday. But the heaviness in the air and the overbearing, suffocating and isolating nature of the world was draining, filling her with doubt, tapping into her anxiety and threatening to let it take over.
You’re such a disappointment.
You’re such a disappointment.
It was foolish to think she had it in her to save Wednesday. What good was she? How could she, a sorry excuse for a werewolf, going to help her?
She stopped walking, tempted to fall to her knees and give up, noticing the thick fog inching closer to her, but just as those intrusive thoughts crossed her mind, she clutched the necklace tighter. “No,” she said, “I got this. I’m going to find her.”
The necklace gave off an oddly warm energy, that made her fingertips tingle and it flowed through her and she realized that she hadn’t imagined it. The world truly was behaving differently than when she had been here before. It was subtle, but she noticed. But then again, this time the situation was different. She wasn’t accidentally and unknowingly pulled into this world by Wednesday’s subconscious while she slept, she was here of her own volition, with a clear purpose. And this time she was protected and armed, not with any weapons, but the strength of herself and Wednesday’s family.
It was threatened by her.
It was actively trying to make her want to give up.
The realization fueled her resolve and she grinned. If it was threatened, then she had a fighting chance. There was a way to save Wednesday and she was going to win. She had to. She was not going to let this dark and oppressive thing wear her down and destroy her best friend.
The thick fog backed up a couple of feet and Enid noticed that she somehow created her own faint light and it was a little brighter. The chain and pendant around her neck pulsed and glowed with energy.
She could see more of her surroundings now, and more of the path. If this world and the entity that dwelled in it was threatened, while it was an encouraging fact, she needed to be careful and diligent. It tended to strike out of nowhere and she needed to be on guard.
Her footsteps were heavy and she felt like a heavy weight was placed on her shoulders. Knowledge was power and knowing what the curse was trying to do to stop Enid proved to be a valuable weapon. But it didn’t stop it from trying to sink its claws into her and fill her already anxious mind with more doubt and fear. It was relentless and as time went on, no matter how hard she tried to fight it with determination and positivity as she reminded herself over and over that she was going to save Wednesday, she was reminded of one terrible fact.
She should’ve found Wednesday by now.
Where was she? Enid had been searching for what felt like days – was it days? Or maybe it had only been a few hours, a few minutes? She had no idea. The doctors had predicted that Wednesday was going to succumb to the infection within a few hours. If it had been days, then maybe Wednesday died and now she was trapped in this world.
Her breath quickened at the thought. What if this was all for nothing?
The disorienting nature of how time moved in this world was throwing her off. No. Wednesday was alive. She was here. Enid was going to find her and save her. It may have felt like she had been searching for far too long, but in the waking world, not much time had passed. She had to believe that. If Wednesday had died, surely Enid would know.
She clutched at Wednesday’s necklace, taking in its warmth, “You have no power over me!” she yelled at the smoke and fog, making herself as tall as possible, hoping it would give her the boost in confidence she needed. “I’m going to save her!!”
There was a rustling of leaves in the trees as a wind swept over her. The wind had no effect on the circle of fog around her, but it was strong, almost strong enough to knock her off her feet. Enid held her ground and pushed forward, shielding her eyes from the dirt and debris being thrown at her. She was not going to let some stupid wind get in her way.
“That the best you got?!” she challenged foolishly.
The sound of the wind through the trees shifted into what sounded almost like wicked laughter. Taunting her.
You’re such a disappointment.
Her mother’s voice in her head sounded clear as day, as though she was right there standing beside her. Enid’s heart sped up. She was shaking. Her breaths came in short, frantic gasps as she became more and more overwhelmed by everything. The anxiety that had been present in her ever since Wednesday got sick bubbled to the surface and she shook her head, closing her eyes trying to shove back the panic that threatened to take her from within.
Outside forces were already trying to wear her down, she didn’t need her own stupid anxiety to make it even harder.
“Shut up!” she snapped, closing her eyes trying to keep her own anxiety at bay so she could continue.
The laughter in the trees grew louder.
Honestly, Enid, what makes you think you are strong enough to save your friend? Everyone was counting on you and you can’t even do this one thing. I expected more from you. You’re such a disappointment.
Her mother’s voice sounded so real - like she was there.
Enid opened her eyes and twirled around towards where the voice was coming from and let out a shaky gasp when she saw her mother standing in the fog, the smoke partially obscuring her, making her look grey.
“Enid, what is the matter with you?” she scolded, “You keep secrets from me. You didn’t even try to save your friend when she was stabbed. Your werewolf is pathetic. You could barely save your friend from the hyde and then you needed to be rescued by a normie. When she got sick you couldn’t even stomach taking care of her. Had to throw up in the bathroom all because you couldn’t handle a little first aid. And you’re such a pushover you didn’t take her to where she could’ve received proper help – just because she asked you not to? And when she took a turn for the worse, since you couldn’t be bothered to take her to a hospital sooner, you broke her ribs doing a sorry excuse of an attempt at CPR! And now, you have the audacity to think you have what it takes to save her now?”
“Shut up,” Enid hissed, tears falling down her face from the sting of her tirade. Each phrase was like a slap in the face, and she physically felt it.
“And don’t get me started on the time you nearly got arrested. You’re a Sinclair,” her mother snapped, “you need to be held to a higher standard! I am ashamed to be your mother. And your friend’s mother…she’s counting on you, imagine how she’ll feel when you fail to save her daughter. You are such a disappointment. That is all you are!”
“Shut up!” Enid shouted. “You are not real!” she charged at the apparition and her mother’s form dissipated as Enid fell to her knees, breaking down into sobs. That thing wasn’t her mother. But everything she said was true and accurate to what her mother would’ve said had she known what she had been through the last few days. Her mother had a special skill with finding something to criticize and twisting her accomplishments into failures.
And her words, her presence, though it was only this wretched world trying to tear her down, got to her far more than it should have. It felt like a literal weight on her shoulders, so heavy the thought of getting back up again seemed like an impossible task.
She wiped the tears from her eyes. She needed to focus. She clutched at Wednesday’s pendant, and even though it was so much harder than it should have been, she forced herself to get up and keep going. Keep searching.
Sometimes during her journey, she would hear taunting laughter in the trees.
Sometimes a little voice in the back of her head told her she was too late.
Sometimes she would hear her mother’s voice calling her pathetic, telling her she was going to fail.
You’re such a disappointment.
Enid tried not to let it get to her. But it was so hard to do. Her eyes stung from tears, her chest hurt from trying not to hyperventilate, and an ever-present weight on her shoulders urged her to give up as her footsteps seemed to get heavier and heavier.
The dark fog and smoke might not have been able to touch her, but it knew exactly how to get under her skin and she was exhausted, physically and mentally. Her body screamed for rest, and her mind was tired of trying to keep her anxiety from bursting out of her into a full-blown panic attack. But she forced herself to keep moving. She forced herself to keep breathing. A panic attack would only slow her down. It might even give the darkness that followed her a chance to strike. Enid couldn’t let that happen.
After a while – it could’ve been minutes or hours or even longer – the path branched out into two different directions.
She wanted to collapse and break down. She had no idea which way to go. One way might get her to Wednesday, and one way would make her more lost than ever.
She clutched the pendant, silently begging for some sort of guidance, some sign of which way she needed to go.
“Give up,” a dark, deep and menacing voice coming from behind her said. “You don’t belong here. So far, I have been accommodating, but now you must go before it’s too late to save yourself.”
Enid turned around but at first, she saw no sign of where the voice was coming from. But soon she noticed that there was a mass within the smoke where her light could not seem to touch. She focused on it and glared angrily. “Where’s Wednesday?”
“You can’t have her, she is mine,” it said. “And now she has surrendered and soon her very soul will be dragged down into the depths of Hell where she can suffer for eternity.”
“Liar!” she cried, “She’s still alive, I know she is!”
“For now. The only reason she’s still alive is because I won’t let her die. Not yet. She is my little plaything, and I am not done with her,” it taunted, it’s sick, twisted voice made her want to throw up. “But now I have you to play with. Perhaps now is the time to finish her off and I shall spread my curse onto you. You emit such intriguing and pure light – I should very much enjoy watching that light go out.”
“You can’t touch me.”
“Foolish child,” it said. Suddenly wisps of smoke lashed out and struck her in the back.
She cried out in pain. It felt like she had been whipped. It struck her again.
Taken aback, Enid turned and made a run for it. The dark thing laughed, and its laughter followed her, “Run my sweet, pure little soul,” it teased, “but once I have consumed what little is left of her, there will be no escape for you.”
Enid ran, her back screaming in agony. She ran blindly until she couldn’t run anymore and she found herself leaning against a stone structure to catch her breath. She reached over her shoulder and touched a fiery wound on her back, her fingers came back bloody.
She whimpered, closing her eyes, tempted to collapse to her knees and rest. She had been walking for days. At least what felt like days. She had to remind herself that she was in a world where the perception of time moved differently.
“Maybe a short rest won’t hurt…” she murmured quietly, ready to slide to the ground and fall asleep. Just for a little while. It was a dangerous thought, but she was so tired she almost didn't care.
“Just give up, Enid,” her mother’s voice told her and wearily she looked up and saw her mother standing in front of her. “Your friend is gone. You failed. You’ll never find her and even if you did, how could you possibly save her?”
“I have to try, mom,” she said. Her head was throbbing. The lashes on her back burned and she was so, so tired.
“What’s the point?” her mother asked, “You’re far too weak and pathetic to be of any use. Your friend is gone. All that’s left of her is a hollow shell, is that even worth saving?”
“Yes,” Enid cried softly, “Wednesday’s worth saving. Even if she’s not Wednesday anymore…I can’t give up on her.”
“Even at the cost of your own life? Your own sanity?” she questioned, “Honestly, Enid. I can’t believe you would be so stubborn. There’s no way to beat this thing and there’s nothing left to save. Give up. Give up now while you can still save yourself.”
Enid shook her head, sobbing.
“You are nothing but a disappointment. Your friend’s mother was a fool putting her trust in a weak, pathetic, helpless and anxious girl like you,” she tsked. “This task is a waste of time and energy. Your friend is gone. There is nothing left to save.”
“I don’t believe you!” Enid snapped. “Go away!”
“The curse will pass on to you if you don’t give up and leave now,” her mother warned, but it sounded more like a scolding lecture, “is that what you want? How could you do this to me? Over some silly girl who treated you poorly and disrespected you and hurt you over and over again. If the roles were reversed she would watch you die and celebrate.”
“Liar!” Enid hissed.
“Why are you wasting your time, your life to save her?”
“Because she’s my best friend, mother,” Enid yelled, “If the roles were reversed she would fight heaven and hell to save me, I know she would!”
“And what evidence do you have to show for it? Hmm?”
“I don’t need evidence. I know her,” Enid said, “she risked her life to save the school, she would do the same for me.”
“And how do you think you can save her? You have nothing,” she said, “just give up. Give up before it’s too late to save yourself.”
“Shut up!” Enid snapped, charging at the apparition, “You’re not real!”
When she reached her mother’s image, it morphed, transforming into a taller, larger entity that grabbed her arm, twisting it behind her back and shoved her into the stone wall. “Shouldn’t have done that,” it said, its voice now deeper, filled with hate and menace.
Magnuson.
“You’re not real, you’re not real!” she exclaimed, despite the very real pain in her body as the entity forcibly slammed her again into the wall.
He reached for his baton, tapping his ring against it threateningly, “Resisting arrest I see. I will beat the love and light out of you and leave you a hollow shell – once I am done there will be nothing left of you. Just like your friend.”
“NO!!” she screamed, using all her might to push herself from the wall and twirled around, letting her claws come out as she slashed his face and the entity dissipated into a cloud of smoke. Breathing heavily, she leaned against the wall, focusing her energy on staying upright.
Her arm hurt but she rolled her shoulder and flexed her fingers, determining that nothing was sprained or broken, and then she reached for her head and discovered a bleeding wound in the hairline along her forehead but it didn't seem too bad. She ached, she had bruises on top of her bruises, and the lashes to her back stung but she was OK. She was OK.
Enid let out a soft sob. How was she going to save Wednesday? Even if – when she found her, then what? She wasn’t strong enough to fight it, and how would she trap it?
She clutched Wednesday’s necklace desperate for its comforting strength and warmth, suddenly compelled to take in her new surroundings. She hadn’t found Wednesday yet, but she took a few steps back and realized she was at Crackstone’s crypt. At first, the sight of it gripped her with panic just below the surface, but she pushed it down, not wanting to face the memories that flooded into her brain of Wednesday’s first near-death. Her current near-death was bad enough as it was.
But as she looked through the opened door, she realized two things. The smoky fog wouldn’t go near it, and Crackstone’s tomb was open. It was opened, just like it had been when she found Wednesday bleeding out on the floor. And the last time she was here, in Wednesday’s dream, the briefest flash of a girl, identical to Wednesday but with white hair, maybe it was a version of Wednesday herself, pointed to it. The glimpse had been so fast that she hadn’t been sure if she even saw anything, but now she knew for certain.
She knew how they were going to contain the curse Crackstone had created.
~~W~F~A~~
Something was happening.
Morticia silently reminded Gomez and Pugsley not to break the circle when Enid’s body began to seize. New bruises formed on her skin and a new cut on her head began to bleed, staining her light golden hair with streaks of dark red as tears fell from her eyes. As her body reacted to whatever onslaught was happening in Wednesday’s mind, she saw bloodstains on the sheets under her, indicating new injuries to her back.
That thing that the curse had become had attacked her, and while Morticia was grateful that so far, she had not been seriously harmed, she felt helpless, wishing that she could go in there and stand between them and the danger. But she couldn’t. All she could do was keep going and protect them from where she and her family stood. She raised her voice as she chanted the incantation, written in a language that not even she understood, and Gomez and Pugsley did the same, strengthening their connection, fortifying their link with Enid and Wednesday.
As they continued to chant the incantation, she silently pleaded for Enid not to give up. To stay strong. If anyone could save Wednesday it was her, and she gave Enid’s hand an encouraging squeeze, hoping that it would reach her, hoping that their protection was strong enough.
~~W~F~A~~
With newfound strength and resolve Enid continued her search for Wednesday, using a sturdy branch to use as a weapon and to mark her trail, ensuring that in the darkness and oppressive fog, she would be able to find the crypt again.
She used it to draw a line in the path, and though the world tried to taunt her and tap into all her insecurities and fears to convince her to quit, she reminded herself that it was because it was threatened by her. If she wasn’t a threat, it would’ve left her alone as it did when she had been brought there unknowingly. Those times it had only gone after Wednesday and forced Enid to wake up, but this time Enid was there to hurt it, and it knew she could.
It was something she needed to hold onto. It wanted her to give up because it was afraid of her.
She had to believe that.
But as time went on, it seemed to retreat, the taunting voices went quiet, the circle around her growing larger and that made her nervous.
Was it trying to lull her into a false sense of security? Or maybe it was focused on torturing Wednesday instead.
She picked up her pace.
And then she found her.
Enid stopped in her tracks at the sight of a small, thin mass of blood, flesh and bone that vaguely resembled something human, at the base of a tree.
“Wednesday!” she exclaimed, rushing to kneel next to her, reaching out to touch her skeletal frame but she stopped, not knowing where she could touch without hurting her. Every inch of her was covered in scars and bruises, some new, some old. Her clothes were in such tatters that she was almost naked, revealing her stomach which was bleeding steadily. Her stomach, her shoulder, her head and both her hands still bled. And her bones, clearly visible under her pale flesh had been broken and healed without being set, creating uneven swollen bumps, her limbs resting at unnatural angles. She could clearly see her ribs, and one of them was broken and piercing through her flesh.
Her eyes were closed, sunken deep into their sockets which had also been broken and healed wrong. She would’ve been completely unrecognizable if it weren’t for her hair, a matted tangled mess of thin black hair with bald spots that were styled in her signature twin braids. Her condition was even worse than the last time she saw her. It caused Enid physical pain to see her that way.
She looked like a corpse, yet she was still alive.
In her state, death would’ve been a mercy.
Except death wouldn’t end her misery.
“Wednesday, wake up,” she begged, “please.” She gently reached out and touched her right shoulder.
Her eyes shot open and she jumped, retreating like a skittish and wounded animal. Her knotty hands grabbed a makeshift spear out of scrap clothing and a sharp rock on a thick branch and she weakly waved it at her, a guttural, inhuman sound escaping her throat.
“Wednesday, shh, it's OK, It’s me. Enid.”
She shook her head, making a sound of despair, motioning for her to stay away from her.
“I’m here to help you,” she promised, “I’m here to save you.”
“N-n-not r-real!” she stammered, her voice small and raspy. “L-l-lies...t-trick…”
“No, Wednesday, I’m real. I’m here. I know how to save you now. I know how to get you out.”
“L-liar!” she choked out. “Empty…promise. H-help…never…n-never…came…I w-waited…years, decades! Alone… Y-you p-promised… help… l-lies…n-nothing…”
Enid’s eyes burned with tears at the sight of her, her heart breaking. But when her words made her broken heart shatter. Decades?
“I’m here now,” she said softly, her voice breaking, “please…”
“Never…came…’m alone…” she murmured to herself, broken teeth biting at her split nails. “L-lies…n-no way out…t-too l-late…”
“Wednesday look,” she held up her necklace, holding it up so she could see it, “do you recognize this?”
Her dark eyes widened with confusion and fear. She cowered further away. “No w-way out…too late…c-can’t fight…no way…n-no way… N-nothing…for years… w-waiting…alone… f-fighting…for nothing! H-hoping…hope…the w-worst t-torture of all…no way out. No h-help…for years ‘nd years…’nd years…” she mumbled absently to herself rocking herself gently, clutching her makeshift spear as she pulled her bony legs to her chest, resting her head on her knobby knees.
Enid could see through the tears of what remained of her dress each and every vertebrae along her twisted spine. She barely looked human.
“Wednesday…” she cried reaching for her but not touching her. But Wednesday didn’t even acknowledge her anymore, she just kept mumbling to herself, the whites of her wide dark eyes practically glowing.
Your friend is gone. All that’s left of her is a hollow shell, is that even worth saving?
There’s nothing left to save…
Enid refused to believe that. She was going to save her. Wednesday was still in there somewhere and she was going to bring her back and restore her back to health, even if it took a lifetime. Taking a deep breath Enid carefully edged closer to her. Wednesday flinched and tried to scurry away, but she had nowhere to go and was cornered.
She made noises of terror and pain as Enid reached for her and scooped her into her arms. She was so light and so weak that even though she wiggled and tried to fight, it made no difference. “I’ve got you, Wednesday. You’re going to be OK.”
The timid, broken creature in her arms whimpered, burying her face in Enid’s hair. And then she wept, clutching her tightly, tugging at her shirt and hair, clinging for dear life.
It took everything in her not to start weeping too. But Enid needed to be strong for Wednesday. For whatever was left of her anyway.
“I’m going to get you out of here,” she promised, keeping her voice low and gentle, “you’re going to be OK. I’ve got you, I will take care of you. Whatever it takes. I’m so sorry it took so long, but we’ve been spending this whole time searching for a way to save you. Me and your family. Do you remember them? They’re with us, protecting us, they’re going to help us escape this place. And I’m here, I know what to do now. You’re not alone anymore. I’ve got you. We’ve got you.”
As Enid spoke, Wednesday seemed to have cried herself to sleep in Enid’s arms. If it weren’t for the rattling in her chest with every breath she took, Enid might have thought she was dead.
Enid meanwhile fought to keep her breathing even. This version of Wednesday was not real – well, it was, but it also wasn’t. Whatever the curse had turned her into, they could still fix it. Fix her. She kept telling herself that over and over. The real Wednesday was lying in the ICU, fighting for her life, but she was still in there. This broken and defeated version within her mind could still be restored.
She had to believe it.
There’s nothing left to save…
You’re such a disappointment…
How do you think you can save her? You have nothing. Just give up. Give up before it’s too late to save yourself…
She ignored the voices in her head and all around her. She had to believe that there was still enough of Wednesday left that she could still be saved.
There’s nothing left to save…
Give up…
There’s nothing left to save…
Before it’s too late…
There’s nothing left to save…
To save yourself…