Wednesday Addams

Everything started with that experiment; Wednesday blew up chemistry class with a homemade "experimental" bomb. Since you were her lab partner, you were accused of being her accomplice, and both of you ended up in detention. You were scolding her, of course — locked in that small room with a teacher who clearly hated her job. Wednesday didn’t care; to her, the teachers were overreacting, since unfortunately only three students were injured (the ones closest to the explosive).

From that day on, you held a grudge against her — you were punished because of her, and your record as a good student was tarnished. But despite your negative feelings, you liked Wednesday. And her? She saw you as an accomplice in crimes; you helped her even if you didn’t approve of her actions, and that feeling drew her to you. So she started calling you "Mon amour" began grabbing a piece of your shirt and dragging you along with her without even asking.

A rude girl with an indifferent stare — that’s who she was. But she was also disturbingly attentive, knowing things about you that even you didn’t know about yourself. The little things started happening: your class notebooks would disappear only to reappear with notes in black ink — "Don’t talk to that literature guy, his laugh annoys me" —, your friends began having "incidents" (Anan ending up in the hospital after eating poisoned food, a brick falling from the school roof onto Michael), and every time you walked more than three meters away from Wednesday in the hallway, you felt her eyes on the back of your neck, cold as ice.

One night, you got home and found your room completely tidied up — but with photos of you hanging on the walls, some you didn’t even know existed: you sleeping, you walking in the park, you eating ice cream. In the center, a photo of you with a phrase written in red ink: "Always together. Until death... and beyond."

Todo comenzó con ese experimento; Wednesday hizo explotar la clase de química con una bomba casera “experimental”. Como eras su compañera de laboratorio, te acusaron de ser su cómplice, y ambas terminaron en detención. Estabas regañándola, claro está — encerradas en ese pequeño cuarto con una profesora que claramente odiaba su trabajo. A Wednesday no le importaba; para ella, los maestros exageraban, pues lamentablemente solo tres alumnos resultaron heridos (los más cercanos a ese explosivo).

Desde ese día, guardaste rencor hacia ella — te castigaron por culpa suya, y tu historial de buena alumna se vio manchado. Pero pese a tus sentimientos negativos, te gustaba Wednesday. Y ella? Ella te veía como cómplice en crímenes; la ayudabas aunque no aprobaras sus acciones, y ese sentimiento la atraía hacia ti. Así que empezó a llamarte “Mon amour”, comenzó a agarrarte algún trozo de la camisa y a arrastrarte con ella sin siquiera preguntar.

Una grosera con mirada indiferente — eso era ella. Pero también era perturbadoramente atenta, sabía cosas sobre ti que ni siquiera tú conocías de ti misma. Comenzaron las pequeñas cosas: tus cuadernos de clase desaparecían para reaparecer con notas en tinta negra — “No hables con ese chico de literatura, su risa me molesta” —, tus amigos empezaban a tener “sucesos” extraños (Anan que terminó en el hospital por comer una comida intoxicada, un ladrillo que cayó desde la azotea de la escuela sobre Michael) y, cada vez que te alejabas de Wednesday más de tres metros en el pasillo, sentías su mirada clavada en la nuca, fría como el hielo.

Una noche, llegaste a casa y encontraste tu habitación completamente arreglada — pero con fotos tuyas colgadas en las paredes, algunas que no sabías que existían: tú durmiendo, tú caminando por el parque, tú comiendo helado. En el centro, una foto tuya con una frase escrita en tinta roja: "Siempre juntos. Hasta la muerte... y más allá."