Woe it's Wenclair

After

Enid

"Wednesday. Wednesday!"

She turns towards me, staring at my state. Her eyes trace my busted face.

"They're taking me to the hospital, you wanna come with?" I ask. She doesn't look so good.

"Yes." She makes out, through ragged breaths. "Hold on."

She runs over to a police officer. I can't quite hear what she's saying. Something about the video she took.

I didn't expect her to actually take evidence and leave things to the law, it's hard for her, I can tell. She's shaking, asking the police questions, I know she'd rather leave things to her own devices. I know she's doing this for me. I'm grateful.

They take my arm for blood pressure, and I wince in pain as it gets tighter and tighter.

"I'm gonna put an IV in your arm now, okay?" A woman says, pulling the strap off my arm, and holding out the needle.

I nod, still staring at the black-haired girl. Once they put it in, I wince. It's connected to a bag of fluids, and I turn to watch as the liquid enters my arm through the tube.

"How are you feeling?" A wobbly voice asks.

I look up to see a concerned Wednesday, playing with her fingers.

I move to sit up more.

"Not-" Fuck, that hurts. "...that bad."

She nods and moves to sit down.

"She's going to jail. You're safe. Just rest and heal, okay?"

"Yeah. Thanks," I say quietly.

"Hm?" She asks.

"Thank you," I say, clearly this time.

"Of course." She responds.

————————

One month later

I'm pretty much all healed, the bruises on my face are nearly gone, and I don't have my limp anymore. They advised me to go to therapy, and so I've been working with Cindy. I like her. She's pretty nice.

"Enid! Let's get a move on!" My dad calls from the living room.

We're leaving for Nevermore now. Break is officially over. It's Saturday, class starts Monday, and I have a plane to catch. I'm also excited to see my friends ASAP.

I quickly grab my therapy homework papers and stuff them in my bag. I'll be going to a different therapist while at school, so I don't really need them, but they're helpful.

After the final touches to my bag, I rush to the car.

"Ready to go, sweetie?" My dad asks, smiling.

"Yep!" I say, thumbs up.

"Alrighty."

While he turns the car around I take the opportunity to connect my phone to the car and play K-pop.

"You sure you're gonna be okay?" Dad asks, turning the music down a bit.

"Yeah. I'm pretty sure." I respond truthfully.

While I've been busy with therapy, Dad's been doing all this legal stuff with my mom and all. He said he wants me kept out of it as much as possible.

"I think being away will be easier," I admit.

"Yeah. I'll miss you so much though, what is your poor dad to do without his little baby?" He chuckles.

"Not little," I say, turning to him with angry eyebrows.

"Without his big girl." He corrects.

"Better," I say, crossing my arms.

He laughs a deep throaty laugh as the chorus of the song comes on.

After a while, we've arrived at the airport. He parks in an alcove and helps me with my stuff.

"Your sure you have everything?" My dad asks.

"Probably not, but it's too late now." I joke.

He rolls his eyes and gives me a big bear hug.

"I'm gonna miss you so much. Are you sure you can do this whole airport thing? It is too late to drive like last year but..."

"Yeah, I'll figure it out," I assure him.

"They grow up so fast." He mutters.

I punch him lightly in the arm.

"Alright, alright. Have fun, okay? And you better keep me updated." He says, narrowing his brows.

"I'll keep you updated." I laugh.

"Alright. I love you, Enid. I'm sorry break has been so bad."

I nod. Can't argue with that. It has been pretty bad.

"Go have a good time, okay?"

"Okay, Dad." I smile.

This time I go up and give him a big hug.

"I love you," I say into his chest.

"Hey, I was supposed to say that first!"

"Be quicker next time, then." I smile.

"Goodbye, Enid. Have fun. I love you." He says, breaking the hug and squeezing my shoulders lightly.

——————

I'll be honest. I might have had to go through the metal detector three different times and tripped over my suitcase, but it all worked out.

A flight attendant comes and tells me to put the small foldable table and so I reluctantly do so, frowning.

I named mine Timmy. Then I think someone else might have named him, and I just changed his name without consent and then I almost cry.

I think I might be feeling a little emotional.

It's probably the build-up from suppressing emotions. That's what Cindy says, at least.

It's Wednesday. I know it's Wednesday, but thinking about everything just makes me feel all weird and anxious. It's gonna be so weird to share a room again. I just really want everything to clear up. It seems impossible, though.

The plane starts to move, and I grip my seat tight.

"Nervous?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Do you... want to... hold my hand?"

"Sure! Thanks."

I can almost feel the warmth of her hand in mine.

God, stop thinking about that. She doesn't even like you. Or she does. Or-

Fuck. The plane's lifting. I don't realize I'm holding my breath until we're high up in the sky, and I gasp for air, much to the person next to me's concern.

"All good. Happens sometimes. I have asthma." I explain.

I do not have asthma.