A Tale of Wretched Occurrences: The Beginning

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓣𝓱𝓲𝓻𝓽𝔂-𝓔𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽

“‘It will build character,’” Klaus repeats in disgust. “That’s just something people say when they’re trying to make others accept a wretched situation.”

“It is wretched,” Violet agrees. “If we don’t find the word to break your hypnosis, you could cause another accident, and we’ll be in the hands of Count Olaf.”

“You mean Shirley,” Klaus corrects, a faint smile just visible on his face in the darkness.

“You know, he looks like Father when he went–” you begin.

“–to the masquerade ball,” the three of you finish together.

You laugh for a moment, but it fades away into the chilly night air, leaving only silence behind.

“Klaus, I don’t want you to go away again,” you say softly.

“Me either,” he says quietly, leading the way into the workers’ quarters.

When you arrive, some people are in bed, but most are finishing their dinner. The four of you slide into the bench at your usual table, where four plates of mystery meat casserole are waiting. You pick up your spoon and take a bite, discovering the casserole is stone cold. But it’s this or nothing, and you’re positively starving after today. Klaus, Violet, and Sunny also reluctantly eat their dinner. Klaus glances at Phil’s empty bunk.

“It seems darker in here without Phil to find the bright side,” he observes glumly.

“It seems darker ‘cause it is. Sir won’t let us keep the lights on.” Jimmy shuts his book with a soft snap and hobbles off to bed.

“He says we need to cut corners to pay for a new debarker dispenser,” Cesar says pointedly, going off to bed as well.

“I’m surprised they can show their faces after what they did to Phil.” Norma Rae’s voice is full of a savage sort of smugness. She, too, goes off to bed.

“It’s not your fault,” you say to Klaus.

“You’re right. It’s Count Olaf’s.”

“Ee yay,” Sunny adds, which means, “And Dr. Orwell’s.”

“They’re a wretched pair of villains who deserve each other,” Klaus spits.

“They deserve to be locked away for a very long time,” Violet adds. “But for that to happen, we need to find the word that wakes everyone up.”

Klaus looks up from his casserole. “So what do we do? Say a bunch of words out loud and hope one of them works?”

Violet gets up from the table and goes over to the bunk the two of you share. She pulls something out from underneath her bed and sets it on the table with a thunk. The gold letters on the cover flicker in the candlelight, revealing it to be the Verified Functional Dictionary — First Edition.

“This might help,” she says.

Slowly, Klaus opens the book to the first page of words. He clears his throat.

“Aardvark.”

Nothing happens, besides the workers continuing to snore.

“Abacus.”

“Shh!” someone hisses.

“Aberrant.”

“You’re waking everyone up,” Norma Rae snaps.

Frustrated, Klaus slams the book shut. He turns to you and Violet. “There has to be a better way.”

You all fall silent as you try to think of a better way. Or, more accurately, you all fall silent as you come to the conclusion there is no better way.