AN: Hi! English is not my first language, so if you see anything wrong, please let me know :)
The path to Never More was torture for Wednesday and Mors.
— Still not talking to us? — Morticia spoke to her daughters.
— N-
— Lurch, can you remind my parents that I'm not talking to them? — Wednesday said, interrupting her sister.
— I promise, my darlings, you will love Nevermore. — Gomez smiled excitedly.
Mors just sighed and looked out the car window.
— Isn't it, Tish?
— Yes, of course, it's the perfect school.
— Why? Because it was perfect for you? I have no interest in following in your footsteps. Be captain of the fencing team, queen of Raven'N Dance or president of the Nightshade society.
— Perhaps Mors would, dear? — the girl's parents looked at her hopefully and she looked away from the gray sky.
— I'm not as hateful as Wednesday, but I don't even know why I'm going to Never More. I've done nothing.
And it was true. She was almost a normal girl in the eyes of society and even in the eyes of her family, and she felt excluded from a family like hers. The glaring difference between her and the others, but mostly her twin sister, bothered her a little, however, she tried to deny it to herself.
Wednesday and Mors shared similar traits, the allergy to colors and some liking for reading, but they were like oil and water when placed next to each other. While Wednesday had her hair as dark as night in two braids, Mors's white hair was worn loose and tucked behind her ears.
Her white nails matched her sister's black nails. One of the few things they had in common was their pale skin and morbid appearance. Deep down, Mors just wanted to stop being compared to her sister and any excuse she found to be different from her, she took for herself.
— But now you're finally going to be friends with people who will understand you.
— The thing is, I get along with my friends at school.
— Who knows, maybe even Wednesday will make some friends?
— Nevermore is a magical place. — Gomez spoke again. — That's where I met your mother and we fell in love.
Wednesday and Mors had an expression of disgust on their faces. As much as they appreciated their parents' love, it was strange to see them clinging all the time.
When they arrived at the school, they went straight to the principal's office and Mors looked around, thinking maybe it wasn't so bad after all.
— Mors is a singular name. — the blonde said.
— It's death in Latin. — Morticia spoke proudly.
— You've always had a unique view of the world, Morticia. — the older one spoke again.
— Did your mother tell you that we were roommates here?
— And you still with your sanity? Impressive. — Wednesday said.
— You have an interesting academic background. Eight schools in five years.
— They still haven't built a school to hold my sister. — Mors spoke up.
— And I bet it won't be any different here.
— What our daughter is saying is that she appreciates the opportunity.
— Never More doesn't usually accept students in the middle of the semester, but because of Wednesday and Mors' grades, and since Mors doesn't have any type of infraction, we made an exception.
— Larissa, what about the girls' therapy is going to be? — Morticia asked.
— Therapy? — Mors glared at her.
— It's court orders.
— The school has an arrangement with the therapist in Jericho. You can go twice a week.
— Did you hear that, my little storm clouds? — Mors glared at her father. — You are in very good hands.
— We'll see if she survives the first session.
— You'll stay in your mother's dormitory in the Ophelia Hall.
— Ophelia isn't the one who kills herself after going mad because of her family? — the girl's mother nodded and Wednesday just continued to stare at her.
They all walked together to the dorm and Mors was startled by the amount of colors in the place. It was large, there was a big window in the middle, and there seemed to be enough space for the three people. A blonde girl with colored locks approached the excited family.
— It's so... vivid. — Gomez smiled sheepishly.
— Hello, friends!! — Mors and Wednesday faced each other. Mors could be sociable and get along well with people, but it was strange meeting someone as sociable as the blonde in front of her.
"Have you found a friend" Mors heard in her mind.
Wednesday and Mors could talk mentally. They didn't hear each other's general thoughts, but they managed to communicate.
— This is Enid Sinclair.
— Are you all right? You guys are kind of pale.
— They always look half dead. — Gomez said.
— I look a little more death, I think. — Mors tried to be nice to the girl who seemed to be making the greatest effort to be nice to them.
— Welcome to Ophelia Hall! — she walked over to hug the two, who took a step back. — Not huggers, I get it. — she smiled.
— Please, excuse the girls, they are allergic to colors. — Morticia said.
— What happens to you guys?— she asked curiously.
— We break out into hives and the flesh from our bones falls off our bodies. — Wednesday explained.
— Luckly, we ordered special uniforms for you two. White for Mors and black for Wednesday. — Larissa said.— Enid, please take Wednesday and Mors to the registrar's office to pick it up along their schedules. Give them a tour on the way.
The three left the room and only Enid seemed happy with the whole situation. The school was very beautiful, in the eyes of Mors, it seemed nice for people like her.
— Never More was founded in 1791 to educate people like us: outcasts, freaks, monsters. Fill in your favorite marginalized group.— Sinclair said bouncily.
— You can save the sanitized sales pitch. — Wednesday interrupted her. — I don't plan on staying here for long.
— Why not?
— This was my parents' idea.
— You want to leave soon too? — she looked at Mors.
— It doesn't really matter what I want. If my beloved sister is expelled, I will definitely leave too.
— Look, our mother and her condescending smile. — Wednesday pointed to a glass full of pictures and prizes. — They've been looking for an excuse to send us here. All part of their nefarious, yet completely obvious plan.
— What plan?
— That we'll become a new version of themselves.
Mors knew that their parents just wanted Wednesday to be a new version of them and that she wasn't weird enough as an outcast to be an Addams.
— Okay, but could you explain a few things...— Enid said a little fearfully and they started walking again. — The rumor is that you killed a boy at your old school and your parents pulled strings to get you off.
— Actually, there were two, but who cares.— Sinclair looked at Mors, who just took a deep breath.
— This is the square. — they made it to where most of the students were.
— It's a pentagon. — Wednesday corrected.
— The whole snarly Goth girl thing might have work at your normie school, but here things are different. I'll tell you what you need to know: there are many types of outcasts here, but the main four are: Fangs, Furs, Stoners, and Scales. Fangs are vampires, Furries are wolves, like me!
— I assume that Scales are mermaids. — Mors faced a group off to the side.
— You learn fast. — she smiled. — That's Bianca Barclay over there, she's almost the queen of Nevermore. But her crown is swinging. She was dating our tormented artist: Xavier Thorpe, but they broke up at the beginning of the semester. Nobody knows why.
— Fascinating. — Wednesday said without any expression.
— I know?! My vlog is the main source of Nevermore gossip.
A boy appeared at Enid's side and seemed not to notice the Addams sisters. — You won't believe the gossip about your roommate. She eats human flesh. She devoured every guy she killed. They say her sister is less crazy, but they seem to be accomplices. Don't turn your back on them.
Sinclair sighed and gave the sisters room and the boy's eyes widened.
— Quite the opposite, — Wednesday said. — I actually fillet the bodies of my victims and feed my menagerie of pets.
— Ajax, these are Wednesday and Mors Addams.
— You are in black and white. Like a live Instagram filter.
— Ignore him. He's cute, but clueless. Your presence on social media is minimal. You should try Instagram, Snapchat, TikTok.
— I find social media a void of meaningless claims.
— You have Instagram, but it's private. — Enid looked at Mors.
— I like to watch videos there, but I'm not one to share about my life with people I don't know.
— I will follow you.— Mors just smiled at Enid.
When they got to the car to say goodbye to the family, Gomez approached the two.
— Look at you, my little Deathtraps! Seeing you two in that uniform brings back so many terrible memories.
— Why don't the boys wait in the car? I need a little moment with the girls.
Pugsley hugged Wednesday tightly.
— Pugsley. You're soft and weak, you'll never survive without me. I give you two months, tops.
— I'll miss you too.— he went to the other sister.
— Don't eat all the snacks we buy. You'll be sick. If anyone picks on you again, let me know. I'm not going to kill anyone, but I know the basics of torture and no one will know about it.— the youngest smiled at his sister before hugging her. Mors felt sorry for the boy, who felt guilty for his sisters going to Nevermore.
— Any plans you have of running away end right now. I've alerted everyone in the family and you have nowhere to go. — Morticia approached Wednesday.
— As usual, you underestimate me. I will escape this educational penitentiary and you will never hear from me again.
— You're a brilliant girl, but sometimes you get in your own way. — she glared at the other daughter. — I'm sure you'll love Nevermore, my dear. You are exceptional. You'll be fine here. — she held out two necklaces, one for each girl. — I bought it for you. W and M. Our initials. It's made of obsidian, used to conjure up visions. Its a symbol of our conection.
— Thanks. — Mors smiled without showing her teeth.
— Which one of your spirits suggested this toe-curling tchotchke?
Mors rolled her eyes and walked over to her father as the two talked.
— See you later, Father. — he smiled at her.
— Have fun, my girl.