𝙉𝙮𝙘𝙩𝙤𝙥𝙝𝙞𝙡𝙖- Wᴇᴅɴᴇꜱᴅᴀʏ Aᴅᴅᴀᴍꜱ

𝐖𝐨𝐞 𝐈𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐍𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫

/𝖓𝖞𝖈𝖙𝖔𝖕𝖍𝖎𝖑𝖎𝖆/

☜ 𝘿𝙊𝙐𝘼 ☞

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ "I hate carnivals." Sylvia mumbled into Wednesday's ears.

The pigtailed girl didn't answer as she threw pins at balloons, the worker seemed visibly impressed by Wednesday's accuracy and so was Sylvia as she picked up her own pins throwing them with a sense of accuracy that even Wednesday was slightly impressed.

If she would ever show it.

"What's with Weems staring at us like that?" Sylvia suddenly pointed out.

Wednesday turned to look and noticed Principal Weems waving in their direction. She sighed and explained, "I ran away from my therapist, and now she eyes me like a hawk."

Sylvia widened her eyes in mock surprise and nodded in amusement. "Seems fun."

Wednesday looked at her watch, reading the time "We must hurry my train arrives in about an hour," Wednesday informed her as the worker hands the both of them a giant-sized panda.

Wednesday pulls the worker by his ears "You see that sad lonely woman over there." She points at Ms. Weems, The worker nods his head quickly "She needs this sad pathetic validation more than I do."

After slipping the worker a twenty-dollar bill, Sylvia let out a snort watching as the man head towards the distracted principal. With Weems occupied, Sylvia took Wednesday's hand, and the two of them sprinted to the parking lot.

By the time Sylvia and Wednesday reached the parking lot, the night sky was ablaze with fireworks, their vibrant bursts of color illuminating the scene. Sylvia, catching her breath, asked, "Where are you going?"

"Somewhere my parents would never expect me to go," Wednesday replied flatly, her eyes darting around, scanning their surroundings.

Just as Sylvia was about to inquire further, their conversation was abruptly interrupted. Three high school students appeared, brandishing baseball bats and directing menacing glares toward the Nevermore students.

Sylvia scoffed at the sight. "Seriously?"

With a yell, the high schoolers swung their bats in their direction. However, their attacks never landed as the bats were shattered in an instant, tiny splinters of wood falling to the ground. The young man who had swung the bat stepped back in disbelief.

"What are you?" he stammered, his voice trembling.

"What kind of idiots are you?"

The gang of high schoolers fell to the ground in a state of terror, their faces contorted with fear. Sylvia, unfazed, raised an eyebrow and asked, "Now, why would you attack harmless girls?" She handed one of the girls their broken bats.