UNDEAD BECOMES HER, wednesday addams

xvii. pining for the fjords

The letter was mailed in an efficient manner, and Ollie immediately started writing the next one. Or, at least, she tried to, but when her parents returned from their outing, they found their only child crying in pain on the front porch, unable to move herself.

When she'd first started showing signs of terminal Something Is Wrong Disorder, the Archemoroses took her to every doctor they could. Nothing they did helped, and she progressively got worse. Then a guy who introduced himself as Dr. Mal Practice showed up, with a medical degree and a passion for botany in tow.

No, she's kidding. His name was Mallory, and he was very kind to her and condescending towards her parents. He helped her come up with solutions to manage her progressing condition, since he was unable to remove it in any fashion without also taking out her brain. Strangely, neither her mother nor father agreed to lobotomization.

Now she was back in the hospital, angrily writing a speech to her mother about hospital visits being too long, carefully thinking through each sentence for the purpose of brevity.

Mallory had made her parents leave the room for the new diagnosis, and remembered not to wipe her face when she began to cry. She wasn't all that upset, but she was overwhelmed.

"Paralysis of the hip abductors," he said. "Orthotic leg braces," he said. "Not a good sign," he said. Sometimes she wished he'd just shut up and leave her alone.

This new affliction meant she was stuck in the hospital until her new leg braces were finished and could be fitted, since she was no longer able to walk on her own.

Ollie didn't pick up writing again until a letter from Wednesday Addams herself arrived in the mail, clearly written with a typewriter and lovingly sealed shut with some kind of blood. She used the letter opener on her desk to open it up, making a mental note to wash it later, and began to read the short script.

Dear Ollie, it began, I was intrigued by your letter. I didn't realize your situation was quite so dire, although that might have been because you seemed so ambivalent towards it.

"Girl, you have no idea," she said out loud, leaning back in her uncomfortable hospital bed. She had surgery this morning, performed by Mallory, to remove the mass obstructing her throat and she was still pretty tired from it. It turned out to be spider plants, which was new.

I was delighted to find out that I was the first person you thought of to perform your autopsy, though I understand this is not the time to express my eagerness in awaiting your death. Though you do seem to be the most scientifically interesting human alive, I would not wish to hasten your death in any way.

Aww, that was sweet. It was hard to describe Wednesday as sweet, since it didn't feel right. Ollie paused to look up synonyms for a better description. She decided on winsome, which meant charming. It worked well enough.

You're correct that video games are not my forte, and I do appreciate the rapid subject change. I do not appreciate the dig at my height, and my genetics are quite impeccable. I shall consider this a slip of the tongue instead of a purposeful barb, for the sake of communication. My personality may be an acquired taste, as you say, but I still seem to have ended up with friends, despite my best efforts.

Ollie snorted. "If you really didn't want these friends, girlie, you would've run them all off a long time ago."

Her dad poked his head in, on the phone with someone. Probably his lawyer. Or his insurance agent. "Who are you talking to?"

"Nobody. Myself. Mind your business. Aren't you busy divorcing Mom?"

"Ha, ha." He went away after that, which was nice. Ollie returned to her reading.

I'm strangely pleased to hear that Francis misses me. If it isn't too much trouble, I ask you to update me on his condition. As for your left arm, I would consider doing more research into the anatomy of the human arm to make sure you know what you're doing, should you choose to undertake this endeavor.

She'd completely forgotten that she'd mentioned seriously considering hacking her arm off altogether, but at this point she didn't care that much about it.

You are correct when you say that there is no evolution in your situation. The complete annihilation of something to make room for the new does not mean the old thing is evolving. You are being eradicated, and I can't imagine how painful it must feel.

Genuine emotion there. A bit of a surprise, but a welcome one.

My return home has been amicable, if displeasing. At least when I was at Nevermore, things were happening to me. Now the only mayhem is caused by my family, and there is no fun in that. Your letters are amusing, and I would like to continue receiving them.

Further down, like she had hesitated, Wednesday had typed, Love, Wednesday.

Ollie smiled like an idiot, weirdly glad that Wednesday had also ended her letter with love. She knew that adults normally ended letters to other adults that were non-family or romantic partners with something like 'best wishes', or anything equally dumb.

Adults were boring, and Wednesday Addams was anything but boring.

She set the letter down on her blanket and reached for her phone, texting her mom to ask when she would leave the hospital. The exasperated answer was the same as the last three times she'd asked: two days.

She had no idea how long it would take for a letter to get to Wednesday, but she could wait two more days to start writing to her. Unless she denatured, in which case, Wednesday would be receiving an invite to her funeral.

There was a college-ruled notebook beside her, and she flipped it open. Her last page of notes was titled 'Funeral Ideas?' and had a lot of questionable things written under it. Before she could forget, she wrote down bounce house, glitter cannon, and record own eulogy, before crossing out the glitter cannon. It wasn't very environmentally friendly.

Her mom had promised her full creative control over her own funeral, so she was taking this opportunity and running with it.

With the letter on her bed and exhaustion seeping through her, Ollie set her notebook down, leaned back into the pillows, and turned off the lights.