Runaway Therapy
Opening the door you were presented with Wednesday laying on her bed with her arms crossed over her chest as if she were in a coffin. Her roommate Enid was very much present and instantly greeted you in a much more physical manner. Jumping out of her bed she hops towards you, her hands clasping right before you. "Hello Y/n." She then asks, "What brings you here today?"
You gave Enid a simple wave of acknowledgment before heading over to your sister that now sat upright, her eyes wide open now. You held out your schedule which she grabbed with no second thought. Getting off of her bed she held hers side by side, her eyes flickering from hers to yours in a matter of seconds. A deep frown settling on her lips the more she compared the two with one another.
She turned to you. "It looks like we only have one class together. Fifth period, Mrs Thornhill."
In truth you frowned upon hearing of this news, you only shared a singular period with your sister. It turned your stomach in a bunch of knots making you feel sick. Never have you ever been separated from Wednesday. The principal at every school had come to adapt to the both of you granting you to share classes with Wednesday and it had come to make you grow dependent on her. The feeling you felt was one you normally felt when being far away from your family, from Wednesday. The therapist calls it attachment issues and separation anxiety.
The therapist and Weems must be working together to plot your demise. Slowly trying to make your mind go mad and you practically killed yourself. Much like Ophelia Hall just for the opposite reason. Perhaps in the near future once you've taken your life they would name a dorm after you. Y/n Addams; girl who killed herself after going mad over separation from family.
✦➶ 𝕥𝓘мẸ ˢк𝐈𝐩 ➷✧
Therapy was something you've never wanted to get into. Not for the fear of talking about emotions or things like that. But it was because you've never had to speak of your problems, you just dealt with them in a way that you and your family understood. And once one of your family members found out they either allowed you to confide in them or sent someone to the hospital (Wednesday's doing.) Talking about any problems you were dealing with on an emotional level never was something you wanted to do with a complete stranger. You had your parents or grandmother to talk with. Not a licensed person with a degree of psychological behaviors.
Wednesday sat beside you as one of you awaited to be called to the office. She instantly proposed, "I need you to escape your session." Her eyes connected with yours.
Tilting your head. "May I ask why?"
"Simple, we're going to leave this heaven of a town." Heaven of the town. She had changed the saying a long time ago. Usually people would say, hell of a town. But not Wednesday, she loved anything that brought the cruelness of the world. If given the option after death she would pick Hell, wanting to be tortured for the rest of her time gave her a sense of fun. It was her version of fun. She searched through her bag pulling out a nail file and slipped it into your bag not even hearing what you had to say about this.
Though it was clear, you agreed to go with her. You'd follow her through cemeteries upon cemeteries. Battle any unliving things of nature. You would move hell and earth just for her. She was your rock. Someone you had come to be deadly attached with. She would never leave you here alone, nor will you ever leave her. Both having a mutual agreement of a bond stronger than what they can ever express.
"Meet me at the cafe." Wednesday ordered.
You gave a simple nod following through with the plan.
A blonde haired therapist came out with an unnatural smile. "Y/n Addams," she called out.
You stood slipping your small white bag that had bat wings that laid on your back. You entered the room, giving one lasting look towards your sister and she gave you an emotionless look, a look of 'don't screw up' her version of giving words of encouragement.
You stood still like a stone statue. If only you were indeed turned into such a thing but you highly doubt a gorgon would ever allow themselves to stone someone. "Please sit, Y/n."
Barely did you move. Barely did you say a word to her. If you weren't stoned by a gorgon you'll just have to act stone for the time being. "Don't be afraid of me—" Afraid wasn't a word you would ever use for this situation. Uncomfortable, yes. But never afraid. "—this is a safe space for individuals much like yourself."
You continued standing by the door, never daring to open your lips to even speak the faintest of words. She cleared her throat, keeping her smile on you. "I've come to read notes from your school counselor." She decided to keep the session going, not allowing anything to stop it.
"Have you." Never was said out loud. Only in your thoughts.
"She wrote a lot about your attachment and separation issues." It wasn't shocking when those words left her lips, you expected it almost every single time when speaking to the people like this. "How does it make you feel to be away from your family right now?"
Should you lie? Tell the truth? Saying a lie could end in her learning the truth and that could lead to some problems. Not major ones. Only instead of giving a blunt answer, your lips moved on their own, your mind becoming mindless as the words left your lips like you were reading a script that took you forever to rehearse in your own head, "Where's the restroom?" Avoiding feelings was your go to when speaking to therapists or counselors.
"She also stated about your avoidance—"
"I'm on my period." You interrupted, gesturing to your bag, "Want to see my tampons and pads?"
Her cheeks turn a bright pink as her eyes widen in pure shock at your blunt choice of words. Waving her hand over to the door behind her, she stutters out, "I heavily apologize. Take as much time you need."
You headed to the restroom, closing the door, you locked the door. Pulling your bag in front of you, you grab a hold of the nail file that your sister had given to you and start your work. Picking the window to unlock.
Finally hearing the right click, you pushed it open, escaping to the roof. Once out you shut the window behind you heading towards the edge of the roof your eyes looked around the surrounding. Seeing the car that you've arrived in is still there. You tried your best staying undetected, hosting yourself on a thick pipe, slipping down. Once your feet made contact with the ground you hastily walked over to the two other trucks, looking to see if you had gotten dirt on your uniform.
Accidentally bumping into someone, you place your hand onto their arm for support as to not fall flat on the ground, your eyes clouding like storm clouds losing all colors, visions flashing in your eyes. Much like your polar opposite twin, you too had been given psychic abilities but you weren't aggressively thrown upwards to stare at the blue sky. Yours were different. Instead of what Wednesday experienced your visions appeared with either white clouds showing that you were witnessing the past or storm clouds for the future.
Seeing in great detail of an older grumpy man in a car crash with his neck snapped, apples tossed on the ground. One living man checking up on the other gentleman. Blood pooling down his body. Blinking back into reality, the old man glares at you, "Who let you out?" His hands now held a box of apples that had fallen over. "You goddamn weirdo." What an insult.
Turning away from the man, you look over at Weems seeing she was on call, you turn towards the opposite direction and head from there.
Finally appearing in the cafe, your eyes landed on Wednesday sitting in a booth, sliding on the opposite side of her you handed her the nail file. "Keep it," She hums out. "You'll need some other time." Her hand moved a cup over to you. "It's (your favorite coffee/drink order). Thought you might want it."
You sent a closed lip smile. Always making sure the both of you two had a drink or food or anything in between. She acted the older sibling, it was in fact her role with you and Pugsley. You were the middle child that they actually paid attention to. Pugsley the youngest they adored. Not that they didn't adore the older two, they do, heavily so. It was just that Pugsley allowed himself to follow in the footsteps of his parents. Wednesday had come to slightly strain their relationship because she refused to become one of them, to follow in their footsteps. As for you...
You had no footsteps to follow. Yes they were your parents but they weren't biologically speaking. You had much of a difference between them. You wore white. They wore black. It was a common joke in your family that instead of bleeding red you bled white. The color white. White can mean a load of things; purity, innocences, cleanliness and yet it could also mean blankness, coldness, emptiness, simplicity, and minimalism.
Painting a room white makes it spacious but it looks empty and unfriendly. Some find white as a source of calming and refreshing whilst others view it as stark or bland.
In your family white was viewed as a more dangerous color than black itself. White was the meaning of what you are and how you act. You've heard your parents talk about your signature color to others. They spoke about the color as if a weapon that should be cautious when holding for it was not a sharp blade but rather a sniper. It's silence and being able to hide in the sun's light is what makes white the most dangerous color besides black. Perhaps that is why you and your sister work out so well. Not for the fact that you two wore polar opposite colors but the fact that your personalities were so far and yet so alike with one another making you such a dangerous pair to ever face the earth of a planet.
Enjoying the silence in between the both of you someone had to interrupt it. Three people dressed from the past, heading up to both you and your sister. Surrounding you both. "What are Nevermore freaks doing out in the wild?" One questioned.
Speaking to you and Wednesday as if you two were animals. It sickened you how people could take someone so differently and form it into a such thing that everyone nowadays calls hate. You called it outcastphobia.
"This is our booth." Another points out.
Wednesday sat with her hands on her lap. A straightforward question left her mouth, "Why are you dressed like religious frantics?"
"We're pilgrims."
"Potato, po-tah-to." She rolls her eyes.
"We work at Pilgrim World." A dark skinned teenage boy slid a piece of paper towards you and your twin.
"It takes a special kind of stupid to devote an entire theme park to zealots responsible for mass genocide."
"My dad owns Pilgrim world." Confusion filling your head. Why would a black man own Pilgrim World knowing how they were treated back then? Now that certainly didn't make any sort of sense. "Who are you calling stupid." Not the obvious ones dressed as pilgrims, no never them. They weren't they stupid ones.
"If the buckled shoe fits."
"Guys back off." A worker came up to you all.
"Stay out of this Galpin!"
You simply sat back grabbing a hold of your cup as you watched your sister stand up humming out, "Yes, stay out of this." Sipping your drink as you turned towards the windows hearing commotion going on behind you.
Turning back you saw the three boys on the ground and Wednesday talking to the worker, standing up you went to your twin, tilting your head at the teenager in front of you. His eyes looked you up and down, not checking you out but staring at the outfit. "Since when did they add color to the uniforms?" He mumbles under his breathe.
Your lips didn't stay sealed, "Galpin was it?"
"Tyler actually. Galpin is my last name." He held out a hand to you and you stared at it for a moment registering how—what to do with it before it finally settled in your brain that he was looking for a shaking greeting. People tend to do that when first meeting someone, right? Slowly you lift your hand up grasping his. Strong firm grip and one shake. You repeated in your head as you exercised the action to him. When he pulled his hand away he gave you an awkward smile, "And your name?"
Blinking at him for a solid second until it also clicked in your head. When shaking hands, swapping of names is added to the mix. "Monday." You lied bluntly. It wasn't that hard to lie to someone like people make it out to be. First rule of lying, always try to be natural with your answers. Rule number two; believe what you say and make it believable.
Tyler looks in between you and Wednesday. "You two sisters?" Biologically no. And yet the answer was yes, it would always be yes. You and Wednesday will always be sisters no matter the blood ties of one's family, of one's family tree.
Wednesday answered hostile, "Why do you care?" Her jaw clenched. She was more sensitive than you were when this particular question was asked. Though you took the title of insecurity. Your sister hated, despised it when someone would always ask it. To her you were her sister nothing more nothing less. She would die protecting you. Kill anyone that calls you 'not a true Addams.' It annoyed her to no end that it actually infuriated her. Even when you put yourself through the abuse of those words. Always there to give you her version of nice kind words.
The doors open and Tyler says, "Dad."
"Tyler, what the hell's going on in here?" Tyler's dad questioned.
Tyler answers obediently, "They were harassing customers, and she put them in their place."
The sheriff looks Wednesday up and down in pure bewilderment. "This little thing took down three boys?" He was clearly in disbelief. "Did you help her?"
Anger flashed in your eyes. Yes this little thing took down three boys, was it that hard? For a woman or teenage girl to do what a boy could? Take down people with ease? Make them feel pain in either a physical, emotional, and/or mental way. Was it that hard for men to believe that a girl can do more than what a man or boy could do?
"Dad, I swear I wasn't involved," Tyler swore.
Weems entered the cafe, staring at what had happened moments prior. "Apologies Sheriff," She instantly said. "These two slipped away from me. Come on Miss Addams, time to go."
The two of you both gave one another a look before making your way up to Principal Weems. "Wait a minute, hang on. You're an Addams?" Galpin questioned. "Don't tell me your Gomez Addam is your father? That man belongs behind bars for murder. Guessin' the apple doesn't fall far from the tree." He waves a finger at both of you. "I'm gonna keep my eye on you... both of you."
Wednesday only smirked at his promise, Weems grabs a hold of both of your shoulders, "Okay." And the three of you were off. Getting right back into the car.