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It’s only been a few days since it happened. Wednesday couldn’t understand what went wrong. She’d planned it all out so meticulously; fighting visions and murders, trying to beat the odds. Xavier warned her that death was approaching the further down that path she went, and yet she couldn’t help it but persist. Turns out, when fate has a plan, you can’t really pull the strings in your favor. She’d learned that the hard way.
I thought it was me.
That’s all she could think, I thought it was me. She had her own series of visions too, in which, many she didn’t make it in the end. …why wasn’t it me?
Wednesday could’ve settled for herself dying if it meant she got to the truth and saved her friends and fellow students. She was prepared for it, she’d looked forward to it. Her end. The only death she wasn’t prepared for was Enid’s.
And now she was sitting here in Enid’s bed, surrounded by stuffed animals, stickers, and glitter. The room had felt disgustingly welcoming before she passed. Now it was just an empty, hollow shell of the space it once was. The light’s left the room.
They were both so different. Wednesday should’ve hated her, hated all of this, but Enid said it best, “Because we work. We shouldn’t, but we do.” It was mind boggling, how endeared she had become to someone who she knew she should’ve intrinsically hated. But she could never really get herself to. Despite the loud pop music, the touchy-feely-ness, and all the color, Wednesday couldn’t manage to hate her. There was something about Enid that stuck out to her, and made her respect her. Some deep-seated understanding between the two of them. She didn’t think she really understood it even now.
She knew after their talk on the balcony on their first night together that Enid actually understood her. Somehow, for some reason, Enid made an effort with her. An effort she didn’t deserve. And she couldn’t hate her. Because nobody had ever tried before, not really anyway.
So now that Enid’s gone, Wednesday figures she should try to make an effort for her. Try to understand all the weird things she likes. Liked…it’s kind of too little too late since she’s dead of course. Enid isn’t here to appreciate that Wednesday’s lying on her bed, holding a stuffed animal to her chest. But, Wednesday believes in spirits, and if anyone’s spirit is strong it was Enid’s. So maybe she’s sitting here with her. I hope you’re here. Maybe if I’m lucky you’ll be in a vision. Probably not though.
Wednesday only saw Goody because they were apart of the same bloodline, because she was the only other raven in their family in centuries. She knew that the idea that Enid would work her way into her visions was wishful thinking at best and delusional at worst, but she also knew that if anyone would weasel their way into her mind it would be her.
She’s like an earworm even in death.
Wednesday thought about getting up, maybe taking a walk. The funeral had been just two days ago so if she wanted she could go visit Enid’s body. But, something about the idea felt strange. Enid was such a physical person, always leaving an imprint in the space. Thinking about how the only space she could take up now was six feet deep in the ground and in Wednesday’s mind made her feel sick. What would you want me to do right now?
Wednesday thought for a moment, and sat up. She paused and looked around the room. Taking in the smell of Enid’s perfume still lingering, she knew that Enid would probably hope in death that she’d be remembered. She thought about something she told Enid after Mayor Walker’s funeral, “Once the dirt hits the coffin, I’m out.” She spoke like the fun part was over for her, but honestly, she was just trying to respect the dead. Nobody wants me sticking around at their funeral. Except maybe Enid. So she stood up, put on her boots, and started walking down to the bus that heads into Jericho.
Enid was buried not far from Nevermore for some reason. Wednesday would’ve assumed that her family would bury her in San Francisco, but they left her here. She didn’t know much about Enid’s family, other than she was the outcast in a group of outcasts. I don’t know how they could want to be away from her.
But she was glad nonetheless, because at least Enid was close to her. That felt right to her.
As Wednesday approached her, she realized she probably should’ve brought something for Enid. An offering, something that Enid would appreciate in the afterlife. No, it wasn’t Día de los Muertos, but if she wasn’t so distracted she probably would’ve realized it would be the courteous thing to do. Sorry, Enid.
She wasn’t sure if Enid could hear her in her mind, or if she could hear her at all without some sort of summoning circle or vision helping them communicate, but she assumed so regardless. It was the only thing that still comforted her about death.
Wednesday sat down, in front of Enid’s headstone. She looked around at the dead leaves and the trees surrounding her for a minute, just appreciating that Enid would’ve loved the fall weather. She paused, and looked at Enid, well, at her name written in stone, “I’ve always been alone, but I don’t think I’ve ever felt as alone as I do now.” Wednesday looked back down at her hands, fidgeting with them and feeling her pulse quicken. It felt strange to admit aloud, even when Wednesday’s alone, she keeps her thoughts in her head. But, something about being here compelled her to speak them, like maybe Enid could hear her better this way.
“You know, before Goody left…she told me that I was destined to be alone,” she said, “and at first, I thought that was a good thing.”
“...until you didn’t want to be my roommate last year. I realized then that you were important to me.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t say that properly…sorry, I didn’t show that.”
“I guess, I just got so used to being rejected that I started seeking it out, hoping that if I got ahead of it it wouldn’t hurt.” She pictured for a moment Enid's reaction to these words, like maybe she was sitting down next to her sympathetically comforting her like she knew that Wednesday would want but not ask for.
“And you know, for a while, it didn’t hurt…I–” she paused to swallow back a lump in her throat, "I got comfortable, being by myself.”
“I believe, I forgot how to do that now. Bad timing, huh?” She could only think to say something sarcastic to avoid the overwhelming weight that was burying itself in her chest. Wednesday let those words sit there for a minute, because she knew that if she spoke again that she might break her promise to herself and cry. Until she remembered the only person watching was Enid, and Enid deserved to know she was being sincere.
“She was right though, I am destined to be alone.”
“Sorry,” she said, "I don’t want to take up too much of your time, but I thought…you probably would’ve liked hearing me apologize.” Wednesday let her eyes well up with tears. She tried to just let herself be comfortable with the discomfort. She couldn’t sob, but she couldn’t hold herself together either. And for some reason, once the tears actually fell, she felt like she shouldn’t be here. It was like she was disturbing Enid somehow during her rest. So she stood up, and as she got ready to walk away she said one last thing,
“I love you, sorry.”