Wenclair's Love Story

Lost Apologies

If you guys like my darker Wednesday, you are going to love Wenclairiscanonn  fic. Some elements of this chapter are similar to a sequence in his, thank you for inspiring this one :)

Tw: graphic depiction of self-harm. If you wish to skip, I will direct you when to stop and where to pick up again with underlined words.

Enid Sinclair's POV:

Everything. Is. Terrible. It feels like I'm trapped in some kind of alternate dimension where ABSOLUTELY NOTHING is right.

I've refused to watch the news this week. The incident is all they are talking about.

The headlines read "mass attack on hundreds of civilians, who are these masked thieves and what did they want? Where is Konstance? All eyes are on Jericho now for this next election. What will happen next?"

As if I needed another reminder of what happened. This guilt is following me around like a personal storm cloud. I hate myself for what I did. I broke up with her, then tried to kill her. #worstgirlfriendever.

I can't escape it, even my dreams are filled with flashbacks. While I sunk my claws deep into her chest, she still refused to hurt me. She honored her promise even as I broke mine. If Goody didn't save her, Wednesday would have died. I would have killed the girl I love.

That's why I can never forgive myself.

When I took control of my body back, it was too late. I'll never forget the look on her face as she accepted death. I would have taken Wednesday's place in a heartbeat. I'm the guilty, yet she's the one that has to go through the pain.

Right now it's 5 am, It's still in my routine to get up when Wednesday does, which is freakishly early. We'd always train during this quiet hour, I miss her. I miss Luna. I miss our dorm, but wow, I miss her so much.

Skip this part IF YOU DONT WANT TO SEE SH!

Here I am for the third time this week, crying in the bathroom for how much of a monster I am. I betrayed her and I deserve pain.

Yoko always has a few knives in her bathroom, she's a vampire so she's skilled in the art of butchery. Her favorite part's when she collects the blood, one mammal keeps her fed for weeks.

I pick the sharpest knife in the medicine cabinet and stare at the blade, cleaning it with alcohol. Then I lift my sleeve, throwing out yesterday's bandage in the trash before slowly cutting a line across my forearm. I watch as the blood seeps out. One line turns to two, two turns to ten. I stare at the liquid providing my life force. It's so easy to take it away. It was easy for me to take Wednesdays away. I deserve to feel this.

The guilt follows in an endless cycle. I'm guilty of hurting Wednesday, so I cut. Then I'm guilty about cutting, so I cut more. I think about cutting all the time. I want to stop but it makes me feel something other than emptiness and guilt. Like I'm leveling the scores one day at a time.

I take some gauze, wrapping it around my forearm to cover the self-made wounds. It's a good thing it's winter right now, it makes these cuts easy to hide under my clothes.

I sigh, wiping away my burning tears as I slip out of the bathroom, feeling each cut itch underneath my skin. Good, It burns. I want it to hurt. I need to hurt.

YOU CAN READ AGAIN!!

I don't deserve Wednesday, I know that, but I'd do just about anything to hold her one more time.

Wednesday's the most beautiful person I've ever met. I miss playing with her silky raven hair and kissing her soft lips. I miss going to sleep in her arms. I miss that click-clack of her typewriter as she makes Viper go on another adventure. I miss all of her.