For the entire week since Wednesday had returned home from Christmas, she'd spent it doing one thing. Sitting in her pyjamas, crying at every tacky romance film available to her on Netflix, ordering takeaway for every meal and drinking wine.

On New Year's Eve, she'd called her mum and grandparents at around ten, faking a much happier voice as she'd wished them all a happy new year. Little did they know, immediately after the call ended, she'd wrapped herself in her blanket and headed up to bed. The sound of fireworks going off throughout London was the last thing she heard as she fell asleep, too uninterested and downhearted to stay up for the countdown.

By the time the first week of January had ended, she'd started to get dangerously close to having no clean clothes available. Takeaway boxes and bottles were scattered throughout the house and her body had begun to ache from laying down constantly—a feat she didn't know was possible. She hadn't bothered to go for a run or go outside to get the groceries she'd desperately needed, and her body had started to cry out for some form of activity, other than leaning forward on the sofa to dunk her Doritos into the cheese sauce dip. The weather had been grey and rainy all week, mirroring her own mood as she'd miserably looked outside every now and then.

She was also 98% sure the mouldy orange was still in the fridge.

She'd watched the private Instagram stories from the group that had flown to the Caribbean with a lonely ache in the pit of her stomach. Every day, it seemed they'd gone out for food and drinks, swimming in the ocean in the daylight and dancing by the fire at night. Harry still hadn't contacted her, and she now had such an ugly feeling of loss in her at that fact. She watched the videos as he enjoyed himself with his friends and knew he couldn't have cared less about whether she talked to him or not. Meanwhile, she sat in her three-day old pyjama's, crying at Titanic and feeling like she couldn't remember what being feeling happy felt like.

How had her life come to this? Her 20's were supposed to be full of discovery and making memories to cherish. But so far, all they had provided was an overwhelming sense of loneliness. Every morning she woke up and felt...disappointed. Disappointed that this was her life, and she had no idea of how to change it. No idea of how to be happy. It wasn't something you could just buy yourself. There were no pills that made you permanently happy. Money, drugs, alcohol. It was a temporary hit of fake pleasure. But it always wore off in the end. No amount of new clothes, expensive champagne, or luxury items could fill the void within her.

But on one morning, after just over a week of doing nothing, Wednesday amazed herself by actually managing to get showered and do some loads of washing. Maybe it was because she'd woken up to the sun on her face, streaming in through the crack of the curtains. Or it could have been the calmness in the air; there was a distinct lack of emergency sirens going off, no shouting from neighbours down the street or screaming children. Just the birds chirping. She didn't know why, but that day felt different. The energy was still, her mood stable.

She even convinced herself to go do a food shop, feeling grotty after the amount of takeaway food she'd been consuming. Watching the clouds starting to grey, she knew she had to get out soon or else the bad weather would threaten the trip. She quickly got changed into warmer clothes, ready to feel the fresh air of the outdoors once again.

As she slipped on her trainers in the living room, thunder roared outside. Immediately after, her phone began to ring in the kitchen, and she froze.

Could that be...Harry? Anxiety encompassed her stomach as she gingerly walked to kitchen where it lay, looking down to the screen to see who was calling.

She sighed when she saw it was her mum, picking it up and holding it caught between her shoulder and ear as she fished around the inside of her kitchen cupboard for her shopping bags.

"Mum, I'm just a bit busy at the minute so can I..." Wednesday began as she picked out the bags, trailing off when the sound of muffled cries travelled through the phone and into her ear.

Holding the phone to her ear with her hand and standing up straight, Wednesday swallowed.

"Mum? What's wrong? Has something happened?"

A rise of panic grew in her stomach, her fingers starting to tingle as she waited for the cries to stop and her mum to speak.

"It's...it's your nanna," her mum quietly said between sobs.

Wednesday could feel the nausea swirling in her stomach as she processed those words. Her heart was pounding fast and hard now, she could hear it in her eardrums.

No, no, no.

"She passed away in the night."

The air exited her lungs as everything stood still. The thunder roared outside as a flash of lightening illuminated the darkened kitchen Wednesday stood in the middle of. She could feel the blood draining from her extremities, her hands shaking with adrenaline. Hot, salty tears built up in her eyes as she felt like she was going to be sick any minute now.

"Wednesday?" her mum asked with a muffled cry, aware that her daughter was silent on the other end.

Breaking the trance she'd fallen into, Wednesday tried to hold back her emotions with every last ounce of energy she had.

"How...what did she..." she began, finding it hard to even comprehend the words she was saying.

This had to be a dream. She was actually just asleep right now and none of this was real. In reality, she'd fallen asleep on the sofa whilst watching Pretty Woman and now her brain was punishing her for reasons she didn't understand. Any second now she would wake up. That had to be what was happening. She silently begged that that was the explanation.

Because if this was real, she didn't know how she would go on.

"The coroner has said that...that they'll need to run a...an autopsy, but it seems like it was mostly just natural causes," her mum replied through sniffs, sensing what she was trying to ask. "She passed away peacefully in her sleep."

Wednesday knew that she should have found some comfort in that last sentence. Passing away in your sleep was a privilege, a dignified way to leave this earth. But Wednesday found no comfort in anything. She felt like the world that had slowly been crumbling away under her feet for the past few months had been dealt its last blow and now she was falling. Falling through the darkness, unable to find a way or see a way out.

The phone slipped out of her hand as her chest started to constrict, her palms starting to feel sweaty as panic sprouted in her chest. The first tear spilled down her cheek, starting a stream that couldn't be stopped.

Her hand flew out to hold onto the counter as she felt beads of sweat form at her hairline and on her neck and all of a sudden, she felt like she was burning. Her breathing hitched up to deep breathes as she almost gasped for air. She couldn't focus on anything, but the image of her Nanna and it only worsened her completely overwhelmed state. Her vision began to blur as her chest dipped and rose frantically, the sound of her gasps for breath working alongside the thunderous roars from outside.

"Can't...breathe..." she said, frantically aware of her tunnelling vision, the edges of her sight darkening.

She felt pure panic travelling throughout her body, reaching every inch of her. It was like electricity was coursing through her veins, igniting every nerve down to the tips of her toes. Her mouth felt dry and fuzzy like the static from a TV.

Her face was burning, her neck now saturated with sweat as she began to rip off the layers of extra clothing. She couldn't catch a breath, her lungs working faster than her brain or body could handle. Her legs started to turn to jelly under her as she felt like she was about to faint and they gave way a second later, her body sliding to the floor pathetically as she choked on nothing.

Pain erupted across her chest, sharp and powerful. Every gasp made it more and more painful, but she couldn't stop. Between her tears and her lungs, she felt light-headed through the sheer lack of oxygen.

It felt like she was having a heart attack. And there was no-one to help her.

Lying sideways facing the hallway, she let the side of her face rest on the cool, tiled floor. It was the only slight remedy to her current state. Her head swirled as she felt bile rise in her throat, but she couldn't move even if she wanted to. She lay there, frantic, sweaty and unable to breathe as her shaking hands clawed at nothing. Tears were spilling out of her eyes and splashing onto the floor as she felt her vision darken even further, her lungs aching.

She was dying. She was going to die.

"Please...please...please...please..." she begged into the nothingness, with a voice so quiet and desperate, she wondered if she'd said anything at all.

/

this one was hard to write because it felt so raw. poor Wednesday :(