weeee ( wenclair)

first day

Enid's POV:

I'm in the car with my mum and dad, heading to my new school. I got kicked out of the last one for punching a kid in the nose, but in my defence, he totally deserved it. The silence in the car is heavy, only broken by the low hum of the engine and the occasional clack of my mum's rings against her phone. Every second feels heavier than the last, tension building like a storm cloud ready to burst.

"Enid, I'm so disappointed in you," my mother says sharply, her tone cold and unforgiving. "First, you can't wolf out, and now you're punching some poor boy. I don't know where you got this behaviour from."

She does know, I got it from her. Her temper is legendary, passed down like a cursed family heirloom. I feel the heat rise in my cheeks, but I don't dare talk back. Not now.

"I'm sorry, Mum," I mumble, avoiding her gaze as I stare out the window at the blurred trees and fences zipping past.

"You should be sorry. Why can't you be more like your brother? He's a straight-A student," she continues, as if it's the hundredth time she's said it. Maybe it is. The words sink in like stones dropped into water, heavy and unkind.

The car finally pulls up to a massive, looming building surrounded by dark trees and wrought-iron gates that creak ominously in the breeze. "We're here," my dad says, finally breaking his silence with a sigh of relief. His voice is soft, distant, like he's already mentally checked out.

Finally, I think to myself, eager to escape the suffocating atmosphere in the car. I get out and take in the towering architecture of the school. It's intimidating and gothic, all turrets, arched windows, and creeping ivy. Definitely different from my old school. It looks like a haunted castle straight out of a vampire movie.

"Hurry up and help us, Enid. You can't just make us carry all your bags," my mother snaps, already annoyed that I'm not moving fast enough.

I sigh and grab my luggage. We walk to the entrance where a group of neatly dressed boys, probably juniors or some kind of school staff, are waiting to carry my bags to the dorms. Their uniforms are crisp, and they avoid eye contact. I hand over my things and step inside the school, feeling both nervous and oddly hopeful.

Now I'm in the headmistress's office. The room is grand and old, filled with heavy furniture and bookshelves that look like they haven't been touched in decades. It smells faintly of parchment and something floral, lavender, maybe. The whole place feels like it holds secrets in its walls.

"I see you're a social student," the headmistress says, glancing over my file with a calm expression.

"Yes, I am, Miss..." I pause, hoping she'll finish the sentence.

"Weems. Miss Weems," she replies warmly, folding her hands neatly in front of her. Her demeanour is firm but not unkind.

"Thank you, Miss Weems," I say with a polite smile, trying not to fidget too much. My palms are sweaty, but I clench them in my lap.

"Your tour guide should be here any moment now," she adds, just as a soft knock comes at the door. Perfect timing.

"Come in," Miss Weems calls.

A girl with long black hair and thick glasses enters. I immediately notice she has fangs, real ones. She walks in with a casual confidence that instantly puts me on edge.

"You called for me?" she asks.

"Yes. You'll be showing Enid Sinclair around the school and staying with her for the week. Thank you, Yoko."

"Okay, come on, Enid," the girl says with a cheerful smile that seems to light up the room.

I stand up and follow her out of the office.