Chapter Text
Enid Sinclair
June 10th
Saying goodbye to her roommate had been a battle against tears. She had spent so many years in that room without anyone to share it with… and she had finally found someone. That news had made her incredibly happy.
And now she had to say goodbye for the next three months. She had really grown fond of the short girl.
"If you want, you can come visit me in San Francisco,” she had said with a smile. She knew the chances were slim, but she couldn’t leave without extending the invitation. After all, spending the holidays at home was the very definition of boring, she had work almost everywhere. Her mother always found something to keep her busy. So a bit of company wouldn’t hurt.
The hug they shared for a moment was like a thorn in her heart.
Wednesday Addams let someone hug her again?
Definitely too many unexpected things had happened in less than a week. She wasn’t complaining, of course she wasn’t. When she realized the display of affection hadn’t been abruptly rejected, she decided to take advantage of the moment and held on for a few seconds longer. Until she finally let go. And just like a cornered animal, the seer quickly fled.
That made her smile. It was obvious her friend still wasn’t someone who liked hugs, but she had made the effort, and she appreciated that.
Once she was alone in the room, she decided to start packing. Her dad would come pick her up in the afternoon, so she had plenty of time to do it.
She started with her stuffed animals, sorted by size, placing them one by one into the boxes. Then it was time for the lights: a long strand that covered the corners and ceiling, hanging messily over her bed. She rolled them up gently and put them away.
Her wardrobe had already been packed earlier. The huge pile of dresses, pants, blouses, and all kinds of clothing had been the first thing to go. She couldn’t risk taking longer than planned, because even though her mother wasn’t on the trip, she was waiting for them in San Francisco, and she hated waiting too long.
Once the task was done, she lay down on the bed. She played a movie on her phone, hoping time would pass quickly. She hated waiting, even more now that she had no one to talk to. Yoko and Divina had left the day before, so she had nothing to distract herself but her phone.
She didn’t know when she fell asleep, but she did. It wasn’t until a loud door slam woke her up sometime later.
"Hurry up, we’ve been waiting for you for decades!" her older brother shouted in frustration, smiling as he saw her jump with fright. "Mom called, angry! She says we’re taking too long!"
She grabbed her phone, which was turned off beside her, and checked the time: 7:25 p.m. Shit, she had slept almost six hours.
"All right! Stop yelling, God." She put her phone in her pocket and got up, picking up one of the boxes. Her father appeared with her other two brothers. Each grabbed a box and started carrying them to the truck.
"It’s good to see you again, kiddo," her father said, approaching with open arms. Without thinking twice, she rushed into his hug. She had missed him so much.
"I missed you a lot, Dad," she said with a shaky voice, burying her face in his chest. He held her tighter, rocking her a little, until she pulled away. "We have to take the box and the bag."
He nodded with a smile, grabbing the last box. She picked up the duffel bag and her backpack.
Outside, the truck was parked in front of the main entrance. The sky was starting to darken, and the headlights lit up the dirt road. Enid came down with her backpack slung over her shoulder and the bag dragging from her arm, while her brothers argued loudly about who would sit in the front this time.
"It’s my turn, idiot! You sat there last time, now it’s my turn!" One of them roared.
"Liar! Dad, tell him he’s lying!"
Their father completely ignored them, still focused on organizing the boxes.
"Enid, are you sure that’s the last one?" he asked, slightly out of breath from making sure nothing fell.
"Yes. There’s nothing left," she replied, handing him the bag while dodging her brothers who were still fighting. Typical of them, she wasn’t even surprised anymore.
Her father let out a laugh, tired but amused.
"Everyone get in before I change my mind and leave you behind," he said, slamming the trunk shut. "And if anyone yells again in the next five minutes, I’ll make them ride on the roof. Enid, sit beside me."
"What?!" her brothers shouted at the same time, confused. She also looked surprised. She had never traveled in the seat next to the driver, someone else always took that spot.
"You heard me. Enid, with me. Everyone else in the back, don’t make me say it again." The order was clear, and that was enough to shut the boys up.
Without any more protest, they got in the vehicle.
[…]
The trip back home was always extremely exhausting. San Francisco wasn’t exactly close to Nevermore, it was nearly thirty-five hours of travel, including the rest stops. They had to constantly stop at gas stations because her brothers were always eating and drinking nonstop. They slept in whatever motels they could find, since sleeping in the van wasn’t really an option.
The car moved along the winding road as the sky turned shades of orange. Enid rested her forehead against the window, letting the cold glass soothe her headache a little. Traveling with three werewolves was stressful. Was that how she’d behave now that she had finally transformed? She hoped not.
She slept through most of the trip, waking only when they had to get out to eat something or when they stopped at a motel and she had to leave the vehicle to sleep in a questionably clean bed for the night. Although she tried to see the positive side of everything, her back and neck didn’t share the same optimism.
It wasn’t until the landscape started to look familiar that she felt some relief. Her suffering would soon be over. So she decided to look out at the landscape for the rest of the ride. She recognized the road: the trees, the scattered houses, the signs warning about the presence of wolves in the area. Everything was becoming more familiar, which only meant they were just a few hours away.
Coming home had always had a bittersweet feeling. On one hand, it was the smell of damp forest, homemade food, or her father’s tight hugs every morning. On the other, it was the uncomfortable silence during dinners, the looks her mother gave her when she talked about her activities at Nevermore, or her attempts to pair her up with some young guy from another pack. All of it drained her, made her question just how much she had really missed home.
[…]
June 12th.
She finally stepped out of the vehicle; her mother was waiting with a smile. Her siblings ran toward her, hugging her.
She just watched them, not joining in. She was still unsure about her relationship with her mother. Would it get better now that she was a wolf? Would her mother be as affectionate with her as she was with her siblings? Those questions had haunted her since the confrontation with the Hyde.
She longed to recover even a piece of the bond they had when she was little, the hugs, the mother-daughter moments she remembered so fondly. All of that had meant so much to her, and it had been ripped away on a fateful full moon night when her wolf never appeared. She had just turned twelve.
The look of disappointment her mother gave her when she had to break the news marked a before and after in their relationship. It still hurt. It hurt so much. There hadn’t been a single full moon night when she didn’t cry, when she didn’t blame herself in a thousand different ways for failing to do something so basic for a werewolf.
She hoped things would change. A daughter needs her mother, and she had spent years longing for even a hug, a glance, or a squeeze of the hand. Something. She wanted to feel her affection again. She wanted to feel loved again.
“Sweetheart,” her father called out, noticing she'd been standing there staring off into space for several minutes. “It’s getting cold, why don’t you come inside?”
The blonde blinked several times, disoriented. “Oh, yeah. Sure. Do you need help with something?” she asked.
“No, no. I’ll ask your brothers to take care of it later. Go rest,” he said warmly, tilting his head toward the house, nodding toward her mother, who was watching her with an… unreadable expression.
She turned, making eye contact. If she were in wolf form, she was sure her fur would be standing on end and her tail tucked between her legs. She didn’t move forward or backward; her body was frozen. Was she supposed to approach?
“Hi,” the older woman broke the silence. No smile, no furrowed brows. Nothing. Her face gave nothing away. Should she be worried? Did this mean something? “Dinner’s ready. You can sit whenever you like.”
Without another word, she walked away.
Well, this hadn’t happened in any of the imaginary scenarios she’d created in her head. It was weird. She didn’t know how to react, so she just did what her body demanded: food. She was starving.
So she walked forward, still stiff, and entered the house, where her brothers were already seated at the table.
The scent of grilled meat and strong spices hit her nose the moment she crossed the door, making her stomach growl loudly, fortunately, no one seemed to notice. Her steps were soft against the wooden floor as she passed by the old coat rack and hung her jacket without thinking too much.
Her brothers were chatting among themselves, their voices mixing into a cheerful murmur she didn’t pay attention to. She sat in the spot she used to take every summer, but for some reason she didn’t understand, this time it felt like she was an intruder. She left her backpack at her side.
A couple of seconds later, someone slid a plate in front of her: her mother. She didn’t say a word, didn’t make eye contact. She just placed the plate and walked away, serving the others.
Enid stared at the food for a moment. It was her favorite dish, medium-rare red meat. Just a coincidence? A subtle attempt at a welcome? Or just routine? She didn’t know what to think; ever since she stepped out of the car, her mind had been racing with a thousand thoughts per minute, without order or rest.
Once everyone had food on their plates, they began to eat with enthusiasm, all talking at once as if they hadn’t just shared a day-long trip. Enid ate in silence, chewing slowly, letting the warmth of the food gradually replace the cold that still lingered on her shoulders. Her father came in a few minutes later and sat in his usual spot at the head of the table.
No one talked about Nevermore or what had happened at the end of the semester. Her mother didn’t say anything about the scars that now marked the blonde’s face either, which was strange. She always had something to say about her appearance. “You’re too thin.” “You’re too fat.” “You should eat less.” “You should eat more.”
There was always something; nothing she did ever seemed to please her mother. And even though she used to wish those comments would stop, now it felt strange not to hear them. Did it mean her mother had changed? Had those parenting courses finally worked?
She didn’t know what to do, and the situation was suffocating her.
When she finished, she stood up without saying a word, slinging her backpack over her shoulder again and leaving her plate in the sink. Her legs moved almost on their own, carrying her up the stairs to her room, not knowing if her mother had remodeled it or if everything was still the same.
The door creaked as she pushed it open.
Fortunately, everything was just as she had left it. The pink bedspread, the old posters, the framed photos on the shelf. As if time had frozen there, waiting for her. She was grateful to still have a space to call her own.
She dropped her backpack on the floor, sat on the bed, and let out a sigh. Then she felt it, that mix of nostalgia, discomfort, and something deeper, something she couldn’t yet name but that weighed on her chest. But she was tired now, so she’d save the analysis for another moment.
She let herself fall backward, staring at the ceiling covered in all kinds of stickers: cows, horses, pigs… When she was younger, she loved taking care of the farm animals, did it for fun. That lasted until one summer when it stopped being fun. She knew why, of course she did.
Ever since she turned twelve, farm work stopped being a game. What she once did joyfully became an obligation. A daughter who couldn’t transform had to be useful somehow, and that was the only way she could be.
A daughter who couldn’t transform and couldn’t care for livestock? Those two things were incompatible. She had to prove her worth. So she did.
Every morning she woke up at five. Barely eating breakfast, she’d head straight to the stables. She’d guide the cattle to the fields, clean feeders, fill water troughs, and sweep the pigsty floor. The smell clung to her clothes and hair, no matter how hard she tried to avoid it.
She learned to separate fertilized eggs and take them to the incubator. She handled the pig pen after fights tore it apart, and even though she often had to ask her father for help to stop the fights, she always tried alone first. Not because she wanted to, but because she had to.
She even had to learn, by force, to assist in births. Even if they called the vet, she had to be there. “Just in case no one else is around,” they’d say. At first she’d faint, throw up, her legs would give out from disgust and fear. But over time, her body stopped reacting. As if it had given up, just like she had.
All of that kept her busy every summer.
But she still remembered when she was younger, when there weren’t so many expectations weighing her down. When she was still normal.
It was a vivid image in her mind: lying under a big tree, humming country songs her father played on his old radio. She’d spend hours like that, ignoring the world. Just being herself.
Those times were long gone, she knew that. So there wasn’t much point in missing them. She couldn’t stay stuck in what once was, no matter how much it hurt.
Forcing herself to push all those thoughts to the back of her mind, she got up. She had to bathe and get ready for bed. She opened her backpack and pulled out her favorite pajamas.
She’d anticipated how tired she’d be after the trip, so she’d packed everything she needed: clothes, makeup, hygiene and skincare products, headphones, and a charger. She pulled everything out and spread it across the bed, grabbing what she’d use that night and putting the rest in the drawers of her nightstand.
After nearly an hour in the tub, with water so hot it left her skin faintly reddish, she got ready for bed. She noticed her mother had changed the sheets before her arrival, the scent of fabric softener reached her nose as she climbed in.
That was the weird part. Every year on the day she returned, she had to spend hours in the laundry room, washing and drying the sheets enough to sleep on them.
Just one more strange thing to add to the list.
Damn it, she was trying not to get her hopes up, she really was, but it was hard.
She wanted to believe things had changed, but the fear of another heartbreak told her not to let her guard down. At least not yet.
She closed her eyes and let herself drift into the world of dreams, where she was always happy. Tomorrow would be another day. She had to stay positive.
[…]
June 14th.
The shrill sound of the alarm shattered the silence in the room. It was five in the morning, and the sun had yet to rise, though the distant crowing of roosters could already be heard.
A lump beneath the colorful blankets tried to reach the clock, and after several clumsy attempts, managed to turn it off. The room fell silent once more, and after a long few seconds, maybe even minutes, a blonde young girl with messy hair stumbled her way to the bathroom.
She turned on the light with her eyes still closed, trying to adjust to the sudden brightness. Slowly, she opened her eyes, glancing at herself in the mirror with a grimace. She grabbed her toothbrush and brushed her teeth. Then she washed her face and untangled her hair, tying it into a messy high ponytail. Once that was done, she headed for her wardrobe.
Because of her job, she had a few overalls; they were a more practical option. She didn’t want to ruin her clothes, so a few years ago, she had decided to start using them. She loved using them, and like the rest of her wardrobe, she could adapt them to fit her style.
She chose her favorite one: a pink overall with flowers on the sleeves. She put it on, walked over to her bed, and grabbed her boots, another valuable addition. She didn’t want to ruin her Converse either.
Once ready, she went quietly down to the kitchen to make breakfast. Ever since she had wolfed out, her appetite had increased considerably. Because of this, toasts weren't nearly enough to satisfy her. So she had to cook more than that.
Her breakfast consisted of fried eggs, a very generous portion of red meat, and beans. If anyone saw the amount of food, they might think it was meant for a group of three, but no, it was for a five-foot-three girl. She ate in silence, not wanting to wake her family, who would soon begin their own routines.
Her parents were going to the pack meeting, so they wouldn’t be back until sunset. Her brothers wouldn’t do anything all day, as usual. Sometimes they helped with the animals, when they were bored enough to make the effort, but most of the time they just sat in front of the TV and watched show after show until lunch or dinner. So she’d be alone for most of the day. Not that she minded, of course.
Once her plates were empty, she took them to the sink. With a full stomach and the sun still hidden, she opened the front door and stepped outside, facing the fresh morning air.
First up was the chicken coop, so she headed there at a relaxed pace. She walked along the path still wet with dew from the sprinklers and opened the gate, greeted by impatient clucking. She checked the feeder, adding more food, and went over to the waterer, which was dirty from the hens constantly trying to climb on it. She dumped out the old water, rinsed the container, and filled it with fresh water. She collected the eggs one by one, placing them gently in the basket beside her so they wouldn’t break. The hens, mostly the younger ones, tried to climb onto her back, some pecking at her boots and clothes. It was endearing because, even after nearly ten months away, they seemed to remember her.
Once everything was done, she left the basket of eggs in the shed and headed to her next destination: the barn.
There the goats and sheep awaited her, and upon seeing her, they approached. The smell there was strong, she immediately knew she’d have to clean a bit more that day. She didn’t mind; she was used to it, after all. But she had plans for the afternoon and didn’t want to take longer than necessary.
She removed the damp hay, carried it outside, and replaced it with fresh hay. She swept up the leftovers with an old broom that had stiff bristles, perfect for the job. She went to the waterers and cleaned them, refilling them with clean, fresh water. She did the same with the feeders, lifting the bag of feed onto her shoulder, lowering it to the ground, and filling the trays. She’d done it so many times that she no longer needed to measure, just looking was enough to know how much to add.
The goats followed her, along with the curious kids that jumped around happily, making her smile. They’d been born a few weeks ago, so weaning time was coming up. She’d have to check the control notebook and mark the exact date, she didn’t want to fall behind schedule.
Taking a short break to drink some water, she moved on to where the pigs were waiting. She could already hear their grunting. Without a doubt, this was the most tedious task, she never knew what mood they’d be in. Sometimes they were friendly and curious, watching her as she cleaned the floor. Other times they were aggressive, and she had to distract them just to get inside and fill their feeding troughs.
Fortunately, that day they were in a good mood. So she was able to do everything she needed and left, finally enjoying the silence while they ate. These were the only moments when they weren’t grunting loudly.
She headed toward the horses. There were five in total, one for each family member, well, except for her. She still had to pass the full moon trial to be allowed one. A heavy sigh escaped her chest. She really didn’t want to think about that, not yet.
She approached, greeting each one with a smile and soft strokes on their noses. She went through the same routine as with the other animals: changed the water, added more hay. She brushed each one, taking her time with all of them, not rushing. Once everything was done and the accumulated manure removed, the blonde waved goodbye.
Her brothers made fun of her for treating the animals like people, but to her, there was nothing to be ashamed of. After all, those animals had been her only companions for years. The only ones who listened to her, the only ones who seemed to sense her mood and came closer when she was feeling down.
She treated them with dignity because she knew all too well what it felt like to be considered inferior.
She looked at her watch, it was eight o'clock. Good, her parents should've already left for the pack meeting.
She went to the shed behind the house, looking for her control notebook. She wrote down what she had done and what still needed to be done. She checked the goats’ due dates and noted the next weaning date. She also reviewed the feed supply log, writing down the next purchases.
And with that, the first part of her workday came to an end. She had a few hours until she had to let the cattle out to graze, so she had time to shower and head into town. There were things she needed to buy.
[...]
Once home, she went upstairs to shower. The hot water helped relax her muscles and wash off the stench that usually lingered on her hands and arms after work. She stayed under the water longer than she had planned, needing a moment to think.
She stood in front of the mirror and wrapped herself in a towel. She combed her still-damp hair and tied it back into a ponytail, letting a few strands fall along the sides of her face. She applied just enough makeup to her left cheek to hide her scars and left the bathroom. She walked to her wardrobe and picked something comfortable: a pair of jeans, a sleeveless shirt, and a light jacket. She put on an old pair of sneakers, the ones she used for going to town, and headed down to the kitchen.
Breakfast still sat heavy in her stomach, but she knew that after the bike ride, she’d need the energy. So she made something simple: a sandwich with homemade bread, cheese, and a bit of tomato. She ate it standing up while filling her canteen with cold water and stuffing a crumpled list of errands into her backpack.
She checked if her parents had left money for the food supplies, and when she saw it there, she let out a relieved sigh. She counted it twice, out of habit, then tucked it into the inner pocket of her jacket. She closed the door carefully, slung her backpack over her shoulder, and pushed her bike off the porch.
The morning air was still fresh, though the sun was already high in the sky. The road to town wasn’t short, but she was used to it. The path wound between fields and old wooden fences, and the crunch of the tires on gravel was the only thing breaking the silence. At times she thought about singing something, but she didn’t want to waste her breath.
She eventually reached the highway, where she rode carefully along the edge of the pavement. Even though few cars passed through that part of San Francisco, she preferred not to take any risks.
After several minutes of pedaling, she arrived in town. She crossed several streets, knowing the route by heart, stopping at every red light and catching her breath. She saw the store, the one she’d been going to for years. Luckily, it still had the same owner. She’d grown quite fond of him. Chaining her bike to one of the bars on the side, she stepped inside.
As soon as she crossed the threshold, she was met with a familiar smile. Don José, a middle-aged man with tanned skin and overflowing charisma, had always been kind and understanding with her. He’d spent hours explaining the composition of animal feed and the right portions for each species. He’d even taught her a few tricks to make the animals gain weight faster, especially in the case of piglets, who had to be taken to the slaughterhouse once they reached a certain size. It was harsh, and, if you asked her, heartbreaking. But that’s how things were. All she could do was follow orders.
"Enid! You're back!" the man exclaimed with a joyful expression. She answered with the same smile, stepping up to the counter.
"I'm back," she said softly, a little embarrassed. She didn’t know why, but a small wave of shyness washed over her for a moment.
"How's the school year been? I heard… rumors." He said the last part in an uncertain tone, as if he didn’t want to offend her. And of course, he wouldn’t,she was used to it by now.
"So the news really does travel fast. And yes, it’s true, if that’s what you’re asking," she replied with amusement. She already knew what people had been saying, her brothers had told her.
"Oh, no! I’m not one to get involved in other people’s business. But you know how it is, people talk, and it’s hard not to hear at least a little."
The blonde laughed again. She found it amusing how quickly people could find things out. She herself was often among the first to hear news back at Nevermore, so she couldn’t exactly complain or judge.
"Here for the usual feed?" she nodded.
"Chickens and pigs, right?" another nod. The man smiled and pulled a blue notebook from under the counter, flipped to a blank page, and started writing.
Meanwhile, Enid glanced around the store. From what she could tell, it had been remodeled—it looked bigger now. That meant business was going well, and knowing how passionate Don José was about his work, she couldn’t help but feel happy for him. Few people were like him: so dedicated, so eager to share knowledge and love for animals. She wondered if she’d ever find something that made her feel that way.
"That'll be a thousand dollars. You can pay now or when the feed is delivered to your house," the man said, pulling her from her thoughts.
"I’ll pay now." Without further ado, she pulled out the money, counted it, and handed it to him. He placed it in the register and gave her a receipt.
"The feed will arrive no later than Friday. Ramírez will be in charge of delivering it. If there’s any delay, I’ll let you know."
"Thanks, José." She thanked him with a smile. Having him around made grocery shopping less of a chore. He already knew what kind of feed and how much she needed, there was never a need to explain. "Years of experience," as he would say.
They chatted for a while longer, jumping from topic to topic, laughing at silly stories. She told him about events at the academy, sharing the details she found amusing or relevant. Beyond just a client and shopkeeper relationship, they were very good friends. After months without seeing each other, they caught up easily and could talk for ages.
Another customer entered the store, interrupting the lively conversation. That was the signal to say goodbye, so she did, waving to the man, who returned the gesture, and walked out.
She unchained her bike, but instead of getting on, she walked through the streets. She looked into the shop windows, especially those with mannequins dressed in clothes worth more than all her animals. She looked at the designs, wondering how the fabric felt. Had it been sewn by hand? By machine, maybe? She liked imagining the process, both creative and technical. Maybe one day it would be her own design showcased behind the glass.
She kept walking, eventually reaching her next stop: the stationery store.
She had been thinking about whether it would be wise to write Wednesday a letter, just one. Maybe tell her what her days were like at home, or about her animals and the headaches they sometimes gave her. Knowing her former roommate, that last part might even get a smile out of her.
So, she stepped inside.
It was a spacious place, with light colors and an endless variety of items. She looked at the shelves, inspecting the notebooks there. She needed one, as the one she had was nearly out of pages. She usually sketched some designs that came to mind, clothes she’d like to make, but rarely carried out. She didn’t always have the money or the time to bring them to life.
“Can I help you with something, miss?” A woman in her thirties, with dark hair and a slender figure, appeared at her side with a warm smile. “If you're looking for something specific, I can help you find it.”
Enid smiled, appreciating the help, since she wasn’t exactly sure what to ask for, in fact, she had no idea what was needed to write a letter. Were envelopes handmade, or should she buy one? Were stamps still used?
“Oh, um… yes, I could use a little help,” she admitted timidly.
The woman smiled even more.
“Anything in particular? Paper, notebooks… maybe paints? Around this time of year people tend to become artists,” she added, gesturing to the endless array of colors and shades. Wow, she didn’t even know so many existed.
“Uhm, I… wanted to write a letter. I don’t know what I need for that,” she whispered, looking away. Gosh, this was embarrassing.
“Oh, a letter! What a lovely gesture. Tell me… a love letter?” the woman joked. But Enid didn’t find it even remotely funny. She froze. A love letter? How could she even think that?
“What? No, no… a friend, it’s for a friend,” she clarified quickly, stumbling over the words rushing out of her mouth. It was as if the blood had drained from her face, she could’ve been mistaken for a ghost, if that were possible.
“Oh, my apologies. My mistake.” Given the blonde’s reaction, the woman seemed to regret the implication, even if it had been a joke. “We have many types of envelopes, some bigger than others…”
The woman kept talking, explaining the different types of paper, the stamps they had available, and more things Enid couldn’t focus on. Her head felt underwater, she was lost in thought.
A love letter? Was that what Wednesday would think if she received one? Oh crap, what was she doing? If a letter meant that, then what she was doing was terribly wrong. What would her mother think if Wednesday replied? She’d think the seer was sending her a love letter… she’d think her daughter was…
No. Impossible. She wasn’t any of that.
She was simply sending a letter to her friend because she missed her. Something she’d also do with Yoko and Divina. That’s what friends did, they tried to stay in touch during the holidays, right?
Yeah, that’s all it was. There was nothing wrong with wanting to update her gothic friend about life on the farm or how excited she was about hockey practice. That was it. There was no reason to be afraid of something so insignificant.
“So, tell me, what would you like to buy?” the woman spoke again. It seemed she had finished her explanation, one the blonde hadn’t heard a word of.
“Uh… what do you recommend?”
[...]
She left the store with a bag full of items. She had picked out different types of paper, some larger, some smaller, some grid-lined, others ruled. She had also chosen the cutest stamps she could find, mostly featuring her favorite animals, mainly cats. On top of all that, two red-covered notebooks were in the bag. It had been an impulsive purchase, she knew that, but it was inevitable. She needed new notebooks for her drawings; she couldn’t just ignore the urge and waste her inspiration.
She got on her bike, securing the bag in the small basket behind the seat. She pedaled slowly through the streets, unhurried. According to her watch, she still had an hour before she had to be home to release the animals, so she took her time.
She rode around several blocks, enjoying the breeze that had picked up, cooling her body which had grown warm from being under the sun. She kept going for a few more minutes until, at one point, she turned left toward some benches in front of a café. Her body froze at the sight.
Two women.
Two women kissing.
Before any thought could fully form in her mind, the blaring of a horn and a car appearing out of nowhere snapped her out of it. She looked ahead just in time, swerving the handlebars quickly to avoid the collision.
The next thing she knew, she was on the ground, and some idiot wouldn’t stop honking.
“Are you blind or what, girl?!” the man shouted, not even getting out of the car.
She could have replied, could’ve unleashed all the insults she’d collected over her nearly seventeen years. But she chose not to. She had an image to maintain. And oh, what an image.
“Don’t you have some damn hazard lights, you idiot?!” A woman around forty appeared, coming to her defense. “Go away if you don’t want me to call the damn police! You’re a menace on the road!”
More people gathered, also standing up for her against the stranger.
God, how embarrassing, she thought.
The man seemed to realize no one there was on his side, so he simply hit the gas and disappeared into the streets.
“Are you alright, sweetheart? That idiot had no right to showing up out of nowhere like that,” the same woman who had defended her asked, helping her to get up. “Did you get hurt?”
Enid shook her head, brushing off her clothes. She mumbled a small “Thanks” and grabbed her bike from the ground. The woman smiled, replying with a sweet “You’re welcome,” before leaving along with the rest of the people who had come over.
Not wanting to stretch out the humiliating scene any longer, she got on her bike and left. This time, she wouldn’t keep riding around the city, she’d had enough. It was almost 11 a.m.; she had to go home.
[...]
She lay down, exhausted, against an old tree trunk, feeling the roughness beneath her back. The goats and sheep were grazing in the distance, on the wide field that belonged to them. The horses were under the shade of a large willow tree, taking refuge from the harsh rays of the afternoon sun. The scent of dry grass filled the air, adding a touch of everyday life to the atmosphere.
It was already one in the afternoon, and although she could have gone to eat with her siblings, Enid had preferred to pack her meal and eat there, in the peace and quiet alongside her animals. It’s not like they would object, they didn’t even notice when she entered the kitchen to cook. Her parents were still at the pack meeting, so she only needed to return in time for dinner.
She didn’t realize how hungry she was until she took the first bite of her sandwich. It was a quick and clumsy preparation, she didn’t put much thought into the ingredients, just tossed into the pan whatever seemed appetizing: a breaded fish fillet, fried eggs, tomatoes, and rice, although now that she thought about it, she could’ve added some bacon.
For her, when it came to satisfying hunger, anything was acceptable. Even if for many, it would be a… strange combination.
She ate slowly, unhurried, knowing there was no one there to rush her. Once she felt her stomach was full, she put the utensils into a bag and tucked everything back into her backpack. From the same place, she took out another bag, the one she had picked up from the stationery store. She pulled out the sheets and the envelope, along with her favorite pen.
She wanted to take advantage of the calm moment to write the letter she would send to Wednesday. She didn’t really know where to begin, but she wanted to try.
She wrote the date on the paper, but instead of the current one, she wrote the next day’s, since that’s when she planned to go to the post office. She stared at the page for several minutes, not knowing how to start.
Without thinking too much, she wrote the first thing that came to mind. She knew the seer would probably be mad upon learning that Thing had given her such sensitive information as her address, but she hoped it wasn’t serious enough to stop the hand from showing up next semester. She wanted a friend to share her nail polish with.
She told her about how things were going at home: the stress of taking care of so many animals, and how excited she was about her hockey training starting next week. She was genuinely happy, she wanted to stretch her muscles after months of not stepping on the ice. As strange as it might seem, she even missed tackling her teammates during practice. Despite her pacifist personality, sometimes she enjoyed letting off a little energy.
She considered telling her about her earlier incident, the seer would probably find her fall amusing. But she risked her asking about the reason behind her distraction. Her classmate had an excellent memory, and she had no doubt she would bring that detail up at some point. So no, she couldn’t allow that.
She didn’t want to tell her she had been distracted watching two women doing… whatever it was they had been doing. She didn’t even want to bring that memory back into her mind.
She didn’t want Wednesday to see her like that. As if she were a pervert. No, she wasn’t like that.
She also didn’t want her to think the letter was a love letter, and yet there she was, writing a damn letter instead of monitoring her animals’ grazing.
From what little she knew, it was normal for the Addams to send letters, given their near non-existent use of technology. So it was fine. Everything was fine.
And if it were a supposed love letter, there wouldn’t be anything wrong with that… right?
But it wasn’t a love letter. She would never do something like that.
Her friend wouldn’t think badly of her, and she wouldn’t look at her differently. Nothing would happen… or at least that’s what she hoped. She’d keep repeating it to herself until her head stopped replaying the image of two people of the same gender doing things her mind insisted weren’t right.
Yoko and Divina are girlfriends. What's the difference? she thought for a moment.
But that was very different, she reminded herself. Neither Yoko nor Divina were… like that. They were normal. They had the same hobbies as her, listened to music together, watched movies...
Enough. She had to stop thinking about it.
She finished the letter quickly, rereading it a couple more times to make sure there were no mistakes, then folded it. She took one of the envelopes and placed it inside, adding a stamp with a gentle touch. She carefully packed everything into her backpack, putting it in a separate pocket so it wouldn’t get crumpled.
Once that was done, she stood up, lightly dusting off her clothes.
Bringing two fingers to her mouth, she let out a sharp whistle, catching the animals’ attention. Hearing her, they stopped grazing and walked toward her. She counted them carefully, and seeing that none were missing, she began leading them down the path. The horses, already used to the routine, got up and followed her without needing any command.
Though only two hours had passed, she didn’t fully trust that area, so she needed to move them to a smaller but safer zone. There they could graze peacefully for the rest of that hot afternoon.
Once they arrived, she let them roam freely. While they explored, she decided it was time to take the horses to the corral, since it was far too hot for them to be in the stable.
Once there, she gave each of them a few more affectionate strokes. Clearly happy, they neighed and tried to bite her hair without success. She knew their tricks, she wouldn’t fall for them so easily.
After making sure the gate was secured, so none of them got the idea to escape, she walked toward the pigsty. She always had to check it more than once a day to make sure everything was in order. She couldn’t let her guard down, if even one pig got loose, it would be chaos. She didn’t want to spend her savings fixing something that could’ve been avoided.
Luckily, everything was fine. The pigs were resting under a shaded area, wallowing in the damp soil.
She headed back to the herd slowly, lost in thought. She’d been thinking about asking her parents to let her have a dog there with her, to help take care of the animals. A little help wouldn’t hurt, especially during times like this when she couldn’t be in two places at once. Even if the area was safe, she couldn’t risk anything happening to the livestock. The possibility was always there. A dog would make her job easier.
She’d have to train it, of course, but if they got a puppy, maybe it wouldn’t be so hard. Puppies learned quickly, and they could easily adapt to the routine there.
She already had the idea in mind, she just needed her parents to approve it. Her father would probably agree; he, more than anyone, knew how exhausting it was to keep an eye on so many animals at once. And her mother… well, she would be the real challenge. But she hadn’t lost hope.
She could use a little company, someone to play with while she was out in the sun. She was used to all of it, sure, but the thought of a puppy running around made her want it even more. She’d even name it. And get it a collar.
Don’t get your hopes up too soon, Enid, her mind reminded her.
Yes, it was right. She couldn’t, not when she hadn’t even brought the idea up to her parents yet. So she had to come up with a solid argument, with a carefully crafted speech to convince them.
[...]
She went down the stairs quickly, guided by the exquisite aroma of homemade stew her mother had prepared. She and her father had returned less than an hour ago, so it was already time for dinner. She approached and took her usual seat, followed by her brothers, who had come down at the same time.
The food was already served, and without waiting any longer, she began to eat. It was delicious, and she was starving, the improvised lunch she had made hadn't kept the hunger away for long, so she'd had to spend most of the afternoon distracting herself, trying not to devour everything in sight. Her siblings seemed to be just like her, because the table remained silent, each of them focused on their plate, eating as if the food might run away if they didn’t hurry.
When she finished eating, she knew it was time to speak. She lifted her gaze from the plate, turning to both sides where her parents sat, and cleared her throat. They looked at her, as if they already knew this wasn’t typical behavior for her.
"Uh, I… wanted to talk to you both about something, if it’s not too much trouble." The words came out slowly, still unsure if it was the right moment to make her suggestion.
Her mother looked at her with the usual expression, her impassive face sent a tingling sensation through her whole body, making her nervous instantly. Her father, on the other hand, looked at her with understanding eyes, as if he knew what she was about to say was important, because after all, she didn’t usually speak up like that during dinner, so there had to be a good reason for it.
"Well, I…" The nervousness was clear, her voice trembled. "I think it would be good to have a dog on the farm."
A dead silence fell over the dining room. Her siblings, who had been deeply focused on their own plates, looked up at her with expressions of confusion and surprise. Her mother frowned, analyzing what she had just said.
"A dog?" her father spoke, confused but not surprised. He turned to her mother, as if waiting for her to say something.
"For what?" the woman finally exclaimed, her gaze still stern.
This was her chance to make her case. She couldn’t waste the opportunity.
"The sheeps and goats sometimes go beyond the property limits, and…"
"It’s your responsibility to keep them under control, Enid. A dog can’t do all your work." Her mother interrupted, seemingly unconvinced by that argument. Fine, she had to explain more quickly, before her mother lost patience.
"That happens when I’m doing my other tasks, and that area isn’t completely safe sometimes. A dog would alert me if there were a wild animal nearby," she explained firmly, her tone had to convey confidence, otherwise she wouldn’t be able to convince her. "And at night it could sleep in the pen with the goats and sheep, lowering the risk of nocturnal attacks."
"In that case, more than one would be needed," said the youngest brother.
"That wouldn’t be necessary if the dog is strong. A Kangal would be perfect; they can defend against multiple predators at once," interrupted her older brother, who seemed to agree with the idea.
Everyone turned to look at her mother, who remained silent, apparently considering the suggestion. Usually, her mother rejected her ideas as soon as she voiced them, so her silence meant there was a small chance she might say yes.
"Will you train it?" she finally asked. Enid nodded instantly. She didn’t break eye contact, wanting to show she was committed to the responsibility. "Alright, you’ll have a dog. I’ll leave the money for its food in the same jar you use for the livestock. So it’ll be your duty to manage it, understood?"
"Understood, yes," she replied firmly, satisfied with her achievement. She had definitely done well to gather the courage to ask.
Her mother nodded slightly. A gesture so subtle that anyone else might have missed it, but not Enid. She had learned, over time, to read every small movement on her mother’s face, and that gesture, though minimal, told her everything she needed to know.
As dinner wrapped up, everyone began getting up from their seats. The conversation faded into murmurs, and the plates were taken to the sink, where her father was already waiting, sleeves rolled up, ready to wash.
"Well done, you convinced the boss," her father said with a smile as he bumped her shoulder gently in a friendly gesture.
She nudged him back with a soft laugh, happy about the compliment.
She stayed beside him as they began to wash the dishes. He passed one, she dried it. The sound of running water, the cloth against the dishes, their small comments… definitely it was one of her favorite moments of the day. These were the few moments they could talk without hurry, just flowing.
When they finished, Enid set the cloth down and stretched slightly, feeling how the tiredness began to weigh on her shoulders. Her father, without saying a word, wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a warm, strong, and lasting hug, the kind that seemed to hold you from the inside, too. Enid closed her eyes and allowed herself to stay like that a moment longer. She didn’t want to let go.
But the clock didn’t stop, and the next day was waiting. They parted with one last shared smile and turned off the kitchen lights together. The house fell silent, wrapped in the gentle stillness of the night.
With slow steps, Enid climbed the stairs to her room. She went through her nightly routine and slipped under the warm blankets, finally allowing her body to relax. Minutes later, she was already in the world of dreams.
Tomorrow would be another day.