Snap Twice | Wenclair (English)

IV

Wednesday opened her eyes. The faint sunlight under a cloudy sky peeked out from behind her black curtains. She stared up at the damp-darkened wooden ceiling and took a deep breath, filling her lungs with the familiar scent. The door to her room rang with a muffled knock.

—Come in, Thing.

She heard the handle turn noisily, a thud and the door creak open. Thing entered the still darkened room and signaled Wednesday that breakfast was ready.

—Thank you. I'll be there in a moment.

Thing left the room and Wednesday sat on the bed. She never yawned, never stretched, never felt the need for those gestures so common among people after a long rest. For the Addams girl, sleep was not rest, but simply a free taste of the deadly future she deeply expected. Wednesday did not usually dream, yet that night...

She released the air stuck on her lungs and stood up. She grabbed a light black robe from the closet, slipped on her shoes and stepped out into the hallway. Pugsley was coming out at the same time as her. The younger one flashed her a brief smile and stepped forward with Thing. The girl closed carefully and walked after them, but not before taking a brief glance at the room she had previously shared with her younger brother. Everything was still as before, including the collection of edged weapons on the wall that together they had tracked down for so many years. Pugsley had been in her whole life the only person with whom she allowed herself to have displays of "affection" that were reflected in a more or less obvious protective instinct, although most of the time, people used to think that it was only Wednesday's selfishness to prevent anyone but her from being able to torture the youngest Addams. She closed the door to that room as well and walked towards the stairs, with the sound of her shoes against the wood as her only companion. The closer she got to the kitchen, the more she heard the usual noise of the family eating breakfast.

—My little spider! —her father exclaimed as soon as he saw her enter. Morticia, her mother, turned to see her and gave her the usual cold smile. She sat down next to Pugsley in front of a plate of green goo that her brother was already gobbling down in a hurry.

—Did you sleep well, dear? —asked her mother as she sat down across from her, a glass of wine in her hand.

—As well as a soul who has returned to the prison of hell —she replied.

Her parents laughed at the comment and Grandma, behind two large, steaming giant pots, exclaimed "I know the feeling!"

—Do you have any plans for your first day back home, Wednesday? —his father inquired. Wednesday pondered for a few moments, lowered her gaze and looked up again to answer.

—If you don't mind, I'd like to spend the afternoon at the cemetery. I have some business to attend to and I need a quiet, peaceful place to do it.

—Of course, little deadly poison —her father concluded, smiling.

—Something is troubling you, Wednesday. Perhaps you can share it with your mother?

—Not really. Up to this point, I have not been able to indulge in torturous pleasures as much as I would like to. I prefer to keep it all to myself for now, Mother. —In reply. Morticia nodded without taking her eyes off her and put a hand to her chin as she raised an eyebrow.

Wednesday ate in silence and when she finished, she got up from the table and went back upstairs to her room. After taking a shower and changing clothes, she sat down on the edge of her bed already arranged by Lurch to braid her hair. As she did so, she gave a quick glance toward the bureau, where she knew, inside the drawer, rested her phone. She finished her braid and stared for a moment. Nevertheless, she got up, grabbed a book from the front desk and retreated, closing the door behind her.