Author's Note: Whoever said: Write is to rewrite, was not wrong.
I'm sure they've improved some segments of the story and added new parts to make it more interesting.
I admit that this chapter is rather short for my style. But I wanted to give you my readers a New Year's gift.
It was originally going to be a chapter showing Wednesday's point of view and a fight in a restaurant.
But I decided to just write Wednesday's point of view and devote the next chapter to the brawl/glad to meet you between Wednesday, Bruce and Luz.
XXX
Story Arc: Welcome to a Nevermore
Episode 1: The effect of the Velvet Butterfly (IV)
Chapter 4: Wednesday's short trip
Synopsis: It's been nine days since Wednesday dreamed of the Velvet Room. Apparently nothing has changed in her life.
This morning, Wednesday takes his parents to Boston to meet the Clawthorne-Noceda family and their "playmates."
Wednesday is not the least bit impressed with Eda, Camila or Luz, finding them boring or a future headache.
But Bruce somehow has something that catches Wednesday's attention.
Unfortunately for the two kooky families, Wednesday and Bruce aren't good people at socializing and each of them isn't in a good mood…
The fact that they both hide weapons in their clothes doesn't help one bit...
XXX
POV Narrator
The flapping of the wings of the velvet butterflies have begun to produce a result.
The paths of three individuals are about to cross each other, forming a single chimney, the final destination here is a mystery.
At the moment, the change is small, but the more time passes, the more the results will be seen.
XXX
It's been nine long days since Wednesday had a dream about a certain chamber and its bizarre inhabitants.
For the past few nights, Wednesday has been trying to return to the Velvet Room, wanting to know if it was all a dream or not.
Alas, Wednesday's dreams consisted only of an endless dark void without rhyme or reason.
The gloomy girl was not angry at having no results, believing that she had imagined everything, blaming such a dream on her parents and their nefarious plan.
The news that Wednesday has to attend Nevermore Academy, her parents' old school, was not welcome.
Wednesday doesn't believe the "magic" of Nevermore Academy, an institution for gifted outcasts, can "improve" his attitude towards his peers and the rest of society.
On a side note, the Gloomy Girl should have already been in it at Nevermore Academy.
The school year officially started seven days ago.
Sadly, nothing comes easy when it comes to Wednesday Addams.
The travel plans of the parents of the Addams Family and the Clawthorne-Noceda Family were ruined when Wednesday left his parting gift at his old school.
Wednesday's carefully chosen piranhas injured several former classmates and one of them nearly lost the ability to procreate.
The next events didn't come as a surprise to anyone, the bullies ran away from the pool, screaming that the gloomy girl wants to kill them, through her little monsters.
The teachers called the parents who in turn called the police, making things particularly difficult for the Addams Family.
Wednesday, Morticia and Gomez were forced to waste a week of their lives in negotiations with vuk families, law enforcement and a juvenile court.
For Morticia and Gomez, everything worked out in the best way, no one filed charges against Wednesday, preventing their daughter's first crime from being a paltry attempted murder.
As always, Wednesday disagreed with her parents.
Personally, the dark girl would have preferred to be sent to a minor prison, where she could have escaped and lived a life as a fugitive, just like Uncle Fester.
In Wednesday's view, his situation has gotten even worse.
If not forced to attend Nevermore Academy, she will have to visit a psychologist regularly to treat her "destructive impulses".
Finally, once we're done with court business. Wednesday has to leave for his new school, and on the way he has to meet his future "playmates".
In one last "happy" surprise for Wednesday, the scheduled number of "friends" has doubled.
Morticia's old friend, Eda managed to convince her son to give Nevermore Academy a chance.
But on one condition, Bruce will go to his mother's old school, if Luz also went with him.
When Eda communicated the condition imposed by Bruce.
Morticia and Gomez immediately made calls to arrange a second-place finish for the Clawthorne-Noceda family.
If the idea of Wednesday starting the school year with a single friend was cool, the possibility of her having two friends is wonderful.
The gloomy girl feels as if she is forced to participate in a strange social torture.
The only kind of torture Wednesday doesn't like is wasting her time around people who don't understand her.
All while under the critical eye of her mother.
XXX
POVWednesday Addams
The day of my departure has finally arrived. My parent's outline plan has begun, but I don't intend to follow it.
Once I arrive at Nevermore Academy, I will deal with my "new friends" and find the right opportunity to escape.
The collection was tolerable, my mother to keep me quiet decided to prepare Pugsley's least favorite dishes.
Seeing how my brother struggles to eat his food was a treat.
Once I finished eating, I decided to say goodbye properly to Pugsley, hiding a small amount of explosives in his backpack.
A pity that for this trip Pugsley won't accompany me, it means that where to find me a new favorite victim.
Maybe my "new friends" will be good at something, be test dummies for my methods of intimidation or revenge.
Coming out of the old Addams manor was a smooth event, with no interruptions or problems whatsoever.
With Uncle Fester busy escaping from the police, and Grandmother abroad to tend to her old business, I had the little mercy not to attend any kind of heartbreaking good-bye.
I, along with my parents and Lurch, the butler of the family, got into the car, heading to the first stop of my journey, Boston.
My mother looks forward to meeting her old friend Eda again. I feel the opposite, the idea of meeting this Bruce and this Luz.
It makes me feel what the court calls a destructive impulse.
XXX
The drive from New Jersey to Boston took exactly 5 hours and 40 minutes.
My parents had the foresight to leave early to avoid road traffic.
But the lack of obstacles in the way, it does nothing to prevent the disgust I feel at the moment.
I was obliged to watch my parents' passionate love and listen to their endless stories about the good old days at Nevermore.
My parents unintentionally created a combination of visual and auditory torture that is slowly driving me to the brink of suicide.
I don't know whether to be impressed or horrified by my parents' talents as torture masters.
I just hope that one day I can reciprocate the gesture.
"Wednesday, we are almost at our first stop." Morticia said, obviously trying to get me to talk.
I haven't said a word since I got in the car and I don't want to start right now.
The news received from my mother does not bring me any comfort.
At least for a brief moment, I don't have to see this maudlin show of mutual affection again.
But I would have to stay with my mother's friend's children.
I escape bad torture, only to find equally bad torment. Why can't I just sit in an electric chair?
My mother is a first-rate puppeteer.
My mom's plan to turn me into her copy doesn't stop at just sending me to her old school.
He's trying to redo the whole picture, even introducing his friends' kids, all to create a bad imitation of his youth.
Surely my mother imagines that I could meet my soul mate at her old school and experience a rebbot of her love story.
An ambitious plot worthy of an Addams. But his plans will inevitably fail.
I'm not like her, all her plans are doomed to fail. Because there are no people capable of understanding me.
I will never have friends that slow me down or something ridiculous like a soul mate that can make me vulnerable.
I am a lonely woman and I will always be like this, nothing and nobody can change that !
I don't know why but all of a sudden my heart feels a strange sensation, as if a needle had penetrated my chest.
XXX
" My little scorpion, remember not to push your future friends too hard. And you must personally deliver the gift you have prepared." My father said, with one of his laughably genuine smiles.
Again, my father proves to be the parental figure I tolerate the most.
My father is under no illusions, that I will pretend to be a completely different person, just for the sake of a high school friendship.
" I understand, Father. Once I have evaluated my future acquaintances, I will give the package in person." I murmured my first words softly, after hours of absolute silence.
The thought of seeing the effect of the blade's venom in action has kept me company for the last few days. Along with the idea of performing a killer blow to the thyroid.
"The set of daggers must be delivered from hand to hand, not thrown straight at the heart." My mother said, in a subtle tone of disapproval.
My mother's words always manage to spoil my fun.
Like I'm so careless about stabbing a person in the middle of the street when there are so many witnesses.
I would wait for a better opportunity to get rid of the problematic people around me, preferably at night and in an isolated place, where no one can hear the screams.
"Wednesday, I recognize that murderous look in your eyes. Before you think about murder and find a way to dispose of a body. Why don't you try meeting your future victims. If you know them, you might not want to kill them." My mother said, speaking to me as if I were a child.
My mother's scolding and annoyed look manages to irritate me on more levels than I can even imagine.
I curse that he can read my body language so well.
"I don't want to make friends. I just want to be left alone. It's such a hard thought to comprehend!" I expressed my opinion more vocally than usual.
But I doubt that the message was received and understood by my mother, the source of all this antics.
" My little scorpion, I understand that you are going through a bad time right now.
Leaving home and family, going to Nevermore and meeting new people can be a lot to deal with.
But that's no excuse to raise your voice at your mother." My father said, in a more authoritative tone than usual.
Surprisingly, my father's scolding doesn't infuriate me. It just causes a weird feeling in my chest that I can't describe.
Maybe it's luck, I'm about to have cardiac arrest, a rather banal death. But if it helps me escape this unpleasant pain, a heart attack is welcome.
Not wanting to lock eyes with my parents and hear more nonsense criticism, I keep my gaze fixed on the window.
Seeing with my own eyes how land and trees are being replaced by concrete streets and glass skyscrapers. It makes me feel better, the discomfort of my heart slowly fades away.
Too bad, it would have been a good day to end my life.
XXX
It took less than thirty minutes to reach the rendezvous point with the Clawthorne-Noceda family.
For a reason beyond my understanding, the Clawthorne-Noceda Family chose to hold their meeting in a beautiful, sunny part of Boston, in a small three-star restaurant.
Lurch parked his car in front of the restaurant next to a red muscle car.
Once we got out of the car, I was able to take a better look at the place.
His name is Le Ratatouille; the bistro logo consists of a mouse in a chef's hat.
A strange name and an equally strange logo, there is probably a story behind this particular marketing choices.
From the size it appears to be a small and intimate place with a capacity to serve no more than a dozen tables inside and another half dozen on a patio.
" A delightful place ! It's been ages since I had a French dish !" exclaims my father, seeming delighted with the meeting place proposed by the Clawthorne-Noceda Family.
The doors to the restaurant opened, showing one in her forties, quite tall, with golden eyes and a shock of white hair, dressed in an iconic red dress, must be Eda Clawthorne.
"Morticia, Gomez, you have arrived!" Eda said, greeting my parents warmly.
"Eda, how much you've changed, the last time I saw you, all your hair was bright orange. Now it's white like the bones of a dead man." My mother said, greeting her friend of hers.
"You, Morticia on the other side haven't changed at all. You're still the same cadaverous woman you always were." Eda said, returning my mother's compliment.
They have been talking to each other for more than a week, do they have to exchange friendly compliments in person?
" Congratulations on your upcoming wedding. More than twenty years have passed, but you managed to find a person with whom to share the pains of life." My father said, giving Eda a friendly pat on the shoulder.
I see that there is another cursed person with a rosy and saccharine outlook on life.
"Remember to invite us to the wedding, we don't want to miss it for the world." My mother said, of course
wishing to witness Eda's wedding.
I sincerely hope not to attend the wedding where everyone is so happy and colourful.
"I much prefer funerals." I express my opinion, attracting the attention of the witch.
The Owl Lady looks at me carefully, then looks at my mother, ending up whistling.
"By the Titan, Morticia you didn't tell me your daughter looks so much like you. She basically looks like a pigtailed copy of you at her age." Eda said, having to point out my resemblance to her mother.
"I assure you, that we are alike only from the physical point of view. In all the rest we are completely different, she and I." I said in a hostile tone, not trying to hide my dislike of being compared to my mother.
" We can talk about it inside, we have booked the whole restaurant." Eda said, signaling us to enter the club.
Finally good news.
Instead of being cooped up in a restaurant, surrounded by a bunch of ignoramuses, I have to deal only with Bruce and Luz.
I wonder if I could poison their food and blame it on the incompetence of the cook?
XXX
Once inside the restaurant, Le Ratatouille, I saw the rest of the Clawthorne-Noceda Family, a grown woman in her 40s, a girl my age, and a… slightly older boy (?).
The woman is surprisingly… normal.
A woman with tanned skin and an average build. Warm brown eyes. Medium-length brown hair mostly curly, with a strand of gray.
She wears an orange and red sweater, a gold necklace, a heart-shaped badge with the rainbow flag, large blue earrings, two-tone blue jeans and brown boots.
One fact that I cannot ignore is the presence of a set of gold rings, decorated with diamonds.
You must be Camila Noceda, the ordinary woman who caught the eye of a witch.
Personally, I find nothing of particular interest in the two adult women.
So I turn my attention to the younger members of the Clawthorne-Noceda family.
The girl's look can be summed up as a younger and more energetic version of the Latina woman.
She must be Luz, Eda's stepdaughter.
He hasn't even spoken a word to me, but I'm sure his presence will be eternal torment.
There's just something about his smile and puppy dog stare that deeply annoys me.
Pretending not to acknowledge Luz's presence.
I begin by observing the boy who must be Bruce.
Putting aside the feminine aspect that could raise some question marks regarding her gender.
I can confidently say that the look and feel he inspires is totally different from the rest of his family.
He's dressed like he's a 1960s noir detective. He even wears a ridiculous fedora hat.
As out of place as such clothing may be, I can appreciate the choice of colors.
Bruce's clothes won't give me a seizure, being mostly black and white.
My analysis does not stop at a superficial level.
Looking at the Clawthorne-Noceda Family, he can see differences that aren't limited to just looks, he can glimpse the vibe that each member exudes.
Camila is not worth my time.
The witch is slightly better than her mate, having the air of a kleptomaniac bird in the way she is distracted by the sight of shiny objects. In some ways she reminds me of my grandmother.
Luz seems to be having a hard time staying in place. Something about her reminds me of a ball of light, as if her purpose in life is to light up the world.
I get chills just being close to her.
The boy dressed as a detective is in the opposite hemisphere. If Luz is a warm sun, then Bruce is a cold and indifferent moon.
An image of a polar wolf in a pack of kittens pops into my mind. Surely it is not difficult to understand that it was adopted.
I'm intrigued by the fact that Bruce's left eye is covered with a black patch.
Is the eye completely gone or is it on the mend?
Was it a simple accident or something more intriguing like an attempted murder on one's person?
XXX
My analysis of the Clawthorne-Noceda family stopped when Bruce looked me straight in the eye.
"Dame Sombre, it's not nice to stare at people." Bruce said, in an apathetic tone, keeping his gray eye on me.
My mind hasn't paid much attention to her words or the fact that she has a voice that is quite androgynous on its own, with a thin British accent.
My brain is focused on the gray eye of my peer.
At first glance it appears to be a normal dark gray eye, rather close to the shade of refined steel.
Maybe because of my visions or the strange dream about the Velvet Room I had a few days ago.
The eyes are often called the windows to the soul, the truest reflections of a person's heart. As poetic and unnecessarily romantic as it may sound, to some people these words are literal.
I'm not sure if these words can literally be applied to me.
But with my newfound abilities I think I can get an idea of what lies behind that gray eye.
Something deeply sinister lurks inside him.
For some reason, the look in Bruce's eye sends a shiver down my spine.
It's not fear I feel, but something else.
A curiosity to see what kind of person this Bruce is.
I am deeply sorry to admit it, but my mother may be right about something.
Eda's son could be an intriguing person. Whether he's a good thing or a bad thing, he'll figure it out as soon as possible.
In case I don't like the result, I won't have any problems getting rid of it.
" Here's some advice that could save your soul. Avoid making eye contact with me, looking me straight in the eye can be dangerous." Bruce said, giving me an unreadable look.
" It's a menace?" I ask, defiantly, preparing to pull out the dagger hidden in my sleeve.
I'm not intimidated by anyone, I'm the one who scares people into therapy or worse.
"If you draw your knife, I'll draw my weapons too. I'd rather not hurt a pretty girl. But if you're looking for trouble, you've found your match." Bruce said, clenching his fists, he looks ready to fight.
A part of me feels compelled to reward Bruce, few people can spot the weapons I'm hiding on me.
A bigger part of me wants to cut out Bruce's tongue.
No guy can call me pretty and get away with it. For me, cute is synonymous with weakness and helplessness, like crow chicks or black cat puppies.
If my parents want this boy and his sister to be my friend. Then I'm about to show them who Wednesday Addams really is.
Putting my thoughts aside, I concentrate on landing my first shot, aiming straight at Bruce's face.
Keep on ...