How intruiging.

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I sit at a booth as the dark, braided girl walks to the front counter. I sit in silence as i think about how far i've come. I've been sent to a place made to keep people like me captive, i'm being forced to learn about things that are pointless, and i've most definitely been feeling a strange way. Not to mention i'm apparently helping a short, psychotic girl try to escape this prison of a school. I mean it could be worse. I fidget with a packet of sugar left on the table. Is this what my life has become? I wonder how mothers doing. Though i know she can't tolerate me, i still worry about her. I never intentionally wanted to make things hard for her, it just happened. If that kid had not said something about father, i'd be better off right now. He only broke two bones, even if it were his neck. He deserved it. Father didn't leave purposefully. He was just late that night and his luck had run out. He wasn't purposefully killed. He didn't leave me. The kid was lying. He had what happened to him coming. I was just the one who had the gall to step up and do it. I never meant to paralyze him, that's just what happened. He had it coming. It wasn't my fault. The sugar packet breaks, letting the white powder spill out onto the table. I stare at it for a moment, before wiping it off the table. I interlock my fingers and await Wednesday to return.
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Wednesday's Pov

"Jesus! Do you have a habit of scaring people?!" The clerk asks, fear in his voice. "It's more of a hobby." "I need a quad and a taxi to the train station." I demand. He stares at me blankly for a minute. "It's four shots of espresso." I tell him. "I know what a quad is, but spoiler alert, the espresso machines having a seizure. So all we have is drip." "But drip is for people who hate themselves and know their lives have no real purpose or meaning." I respond.

After fixing the machine and getting told i have to wait for a ride, i glance at Y/N. He really has a firm grip on that sugar packet. I stare at him for a minute. His eyes are wide and he's very still. Like a statue. Like he's dead almost. I've seen a lot of dead people in my day, and he's coming pretty close to one. The sugar packet snaps and he wipes it off. His fingers interlock and he looks up. How interesting. PTSD? Trauma? Abusive backstory? Dead loved one? How intriguing. I sit at the booth across from him and he waves. "Hey." He says. "Hey. Wanna talk about that?" I ask. "About what?" "You looked dead." "that happens sometimes don't worry about it." i frown. "Trust me, i'm not worried." I respond.
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Y/N's Pov

As me and Wednesday talk, a group of boys walk in.

"What's a nevermore freak doing out in the wild?
"This is our booth."

We look at each other, visibly pissed.

"Why are you dressed as religious fanatics?" Wednesday asks.
"We're pilgrims." One of the boys respond.
"Potato potahto" Wednesday says.
"It takes a special kind of stupid to devote an entire theme park to zealots responsible for mass genocide." I say.
"My day works at pilgrim world. Who you calling stupid." the boy in the middle asks.
"If the buckled shoe fits." I shoot back.
Tyler tries to step in, yet they don't allow it.
"Stay out of this Galpin!" One of them say.
"Yea stay out of this." Wednesday says, standing up. After taking them down, one by one, I stare in amazement. I've never met someone as cool as Wednesday. The sherif walks in.
"Tyler what's going on here." The man asks.
"They started it. And she finished it."
"This little thing took down all these boys?" The sheriff asks.
Tyler nods.
Ms Weems follows in behind the sheriff, and says "My apologies sheriff, seems these two slipped away. Come with me Ms Addams." Me and Wednesday reluctantly walk around the sheriff and follow Ms Weems.
"Wait a minute, you're an addams? Don't tell me Gomez Addams is your father. That man belongs Behind bars for murder. Guessing the apple doesn't fall too far from the tree. I'm gonna keep my eye on you." The sheriff says. Me and Wednesday blanket look at each other. What an interesting family. We walk out, headed for Ms Weems's car. I feel a tickle on my neck. A Black widow crawls from my shoulder to my hand. I examine it as the door to the car shuts.

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