Just Another Theatre Kid

I’m so so so sorry this took so long. Life got in the way but I do plan on getting through all the prompts in my inbox.

Prompt: I’ve had enough.

“I’m leaving the show.” Anne suddenly announced at dinner one evening.

“What?”

“You can’t.”

“Why?”

Along with half a dozen other questions were hurled at her.

“I just can’t do it anymore.” She told them.

“Did something happen?” Anna asked.

“Did someone say something to you? Because I will beat the shit out of them if they did.” Bessie added.

“No. No one said anything. I just need a change, plus it’ll be nice to have more time with Izzy.” Anne did her best to sound convincing but Bessie didn’t buy it.

Truth be told someone had said something. In fact a lot of people had been saying a lot of things. Things like;

“I love the show but why is Anne so hyper all the time?” And, “ten quid says Boleyn has ADHD.”

Unsurprisingly it had only gotten worse since she had adopted Izzy. She didn’t talk about Izzy much on social media or in interviews but it was difficult to drop her daughter off at school without someone recognising her.

“Who thought is was a good idea to let Anne have a kid? She can barely keep herself alive.” And so on. She knew they were just strangers on the internet but it still hurt. The worst one was perhaps this, “Wait until the kid realises she just a replacement for Elizabeth.”

Anne felt sick reading that one. Is that really what people thought? Is that what Izzy would think?

“Anne?” Aragon asked one morning, sitting beside Anne in the backyard, “What made you want to leave the show?”

“I told you,” Anne huffed, “I’m ready for something new.”

“I know that’s what you said but-“

“You think I’m lying?” Anne finished.

“It’s just you always have so much fun out there.” Aragon reminded her.

“Yeah, because there’s nothing more fun than singing and dancing about my own death and there’s nothing better than watching my baby cousin relive a heap of trauma. So much fun.” Anne’s sarcasm was missing it’s usually light and humorous tone. Instead it was sharp and angry. Aragon sighed.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realise how much it got to you.”

“No, you didn’t, because I’m not allowed to let people know how much it fucking hurts.” Anne snapped before storming into the house.

Maybe they were right. Maybe she was too immature to raise a kid. Maybe Izzy would grow up to resent her. What if she already did?

“Annie,” Katherine said gently, snapping her cousin out of her thoughts, “Catherine told me what you said. I’m sorry I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“Don’t apologise,” Anne told her firmly, “You have every right to share your story and it’s not your fault that I find it hard to listen to.”

“Is that why you’re leaving?” Katherine asked, “because of me?”

“No. I’m leaving because it’s time for me to stop. I’ve told my story. I’ve dealt with it. I have nothing more to gain from the show.” Anne lied, though she hoped her cousin couldn’t tell.

Over the following days everyone attempted to convince Anne to stay but none succeeded. It wasn’t until two weeks later that Anne finally came clean.

“You want to know why I’m leaving?” She asked during yet another awkward dinner, “It’s because I’ve had enough. I’ve had enough of being the ditzy gremlin, I’ve had enough of people thinking I can’t look after myself and I’ve had enough of people saying I’m not responsible or mature enough to look after Izzy. I thought people would realise it was just a persona but they haven’t. I’ve gone from being an evil temptress to being an unfocused, hyper child in an adults body. I can’t do this anymore.” When Anne finished she was breathing heavily and Katherine noticed the subtle signs that her cousin was close to crying.

“None of us see you like that.” Jane eventually broke the stunned silence that had fallen over the room.

“We’ve seen how smart and witty you are. We know you’re not immature.” Anna added.

“But they don’t,” Anne’s voice cracked slightly, “I know we always talk about how it doesn’t matter anymore what other people think and maybe it doesn’t but just because I know it doesn’t matter doesn’t mean I believe it. The last time someone thought I wasn’t good enough I was killed. It’s not as easy as just accepting it and moving on.” Once again the room was silent.

“Come on,” Katherine said gently after a few moments, “Let’s go upstairs.” Gently she lead Anne up the stairs and into the their bedroom. Only for Anne to fall apart the moment the door was shut.

Back in the kitchen the atmosphere was heavy.

“Good thing Izzy’s with Maggie and Joan.” Bessie broke the silence.

“What do we do now?” Cathy asked.

“I don’t know.” Aragon sighed.

Periods are the worst

TW, mentions of blood, mentions of vomit

It was clear that Anne hadn’t been feeling well the last few days. She hadn’t been sleeping and her appetite seemed to have vanished.

“You’re very pale,” Kitty observed one evening, “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“I’m fine.” Anne said sharply.

“Hey, there’s no need to be rude.” Aragon told the younger woman who simply rolled her eyes.

“Leave her alone,” Jane said as she set the table, “She’s not well.”

“I said I’m fine.” Anne repeated. Dinner started off as a fairly quiet affair with everyone talking about their day and what movie they were going to watch that night.

“Anne,” Cleves spoke quietly so as not to draw attention to the woman beside her, “You’re not eating.”

“I’m full.” Anne shrugged, sinking down in her seat.

“Did you eat lunch today?” Cleves asked.

“I’m not hungry, okay? What’s your problem?” Anne snapped for the second time that evening. “I’m going to bed.” She sighed before running upstairs. Katherine went to follow but Aragon stopped her.

“Give her some space.”

A few moments later they heard the shower turn on.

“I’m going to check on her.” Katherine said after the shower had been running for almost two hours. There were a few protests from the others but she ignored them.

“Annie?” Katherine knocked on the bathroom door, “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine. Why does everyone keep asking me that?” Anne called through the door.

“Because we’re worried about you. When was the last time you ate something?”

“How should I know? Just leave me alone.” Katherine sighed.

“Alright,” Katherine agreed, “but when you get out of the shower we’re going to talk about this.”

“Whatever.”

It was almost another hour before Anne finally emerged from the bathroom to find Katherine waiting for her in their room.

“You want to tell me what’s going on?” Katherine asked her cousin.

“Not really.” Anne said as she crawled into bed.

Katherine considered fighting it out of her cousin but Anne looked so miserable that Katherine decided it wasn’t worth it.

In the end Katherine didn’t need to wrestle it out of Anne. She found out when she went to have a shower later the night. The small amounts of blood on Anne’s wash cloth and towel gave it away.

“It’s alright to not feel good when you’ve got your period you know.” Katherine said as she curled up beside Anne.

“What gave it away? Was it the stench of vomit or the blood?” Anne asked, to exhausted to deny it.

“The blood,” Katherine said, “are you sure you’re alright? I don’t think periods are supposed to cause vomiting.”

“It’s blood, Kitty, that’s what happens,” Anne sighed, rolling over to face her cousin, “Every time, doesn’t matter where it’s from.”

“Oh, I didn’t realise. I’m sorry.” Katherine knew her cousin was squeamish when it came to blood but she never realised the nausea extended to period blood.

“Does this happen every month?” Anne nodded, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Would you want people to know that you can’t even change a pad without being sick?” Anne asked, a bit of her usual attitude evident.

“No, but everyone’s worried about you. You haven’t been eating or-“

“What’s the point when it’s just going to come right back up?”

“Maybe we can find a way for you to not have to see the blood?” Katherine suggested.

“Kitty, sweetie, I appreciate that you want to help but this is something I have to deal with alone.” Anne said gently, tucking some stray hairs behind Katherine’s ear.

I’ve lost two family members to cancer in the last three months and I needed a way to try and process it. I’m hoping writing will help me.

TW: Death, Cancer, Sickness

When Cathy first complained of a headache no one thought much of it.

“Have you been getting enough sleep?” Catherine asked her.

“I’ve told you not to spend all day in front of your laptop.” Jane said.

“Maybe you need stronger glasses?” Anne suggested.

No one expected it to be cancer.

After months in and out of hospital there was nothing more that could be done and Cathy was sent home.

The last few weeks were the worst. Not knowing how much longer they had with her. Izzy spent most days curled up beside Cathy. She would tell her stories and, when she was sure no one else would hear, she would sing to her.

At first Cathy would try to engage in conversations but as time wore on it became harder to communicate. Her mouth refused to cooperate and she was stuck with a million unsaid words flying around her head.

As it became clear that time was running out nobody seemed willing to leave Cathy’s side and so the group spent every waking hour huddled around the bed doing their best to comfort the young woman and at night they would curl up on top of the mounds of pillows and blankets they had made on Cathy’s floor. Izzy never moved from her spot curled beneath Cathy’s arm.

Despite knowing that it was inevitable nothing prepared them for waking up that morning to find their friend gone. Izzy, it seemed, had been awake for a little while and had her arms wrapped tightly around the slowly cooling body.

It was as if there was suddenly no air in the room. It felt as though it were freezing and yet somehow their skin felt like it was on fire. No one said anything.

Kitty was the first to join Izzy on the bed, taking one of Cathy’s hands in her’s. Anne followed, laying down beside Izzy and holding her close. It wasn’t long before they were all curled up on the bed, holding one another in silence as they each tried to come to terms with what this meant.

It was Izzy who spoke first that morning. Three simple words that said what they were all thinking.

“It’s not fair.”

And it wasn’t. It wasn’t fair that someone so young was gone. It wasn’t fair that a family who had already lost so much was once again grieving the loss of someone they loved. It wasn’t fair that, of all the people on earth, it was Cathy that had died. And it certainly wasn’t fair that she had faced such a slow, drawn out death.

None of it was fair.

I haven’t written anything this long in ages. I started writing it in February and had planned on posting it in May. Better late than never.

TW: Mentions of death, Panic attacks, mentions of blood, mentions of self harm, mentions of hospitals (Let me know if I left anything out)

Lockdown had been alright at first. Everyone was grateful for a break from the show and Izzy was loving not having to leave the house. However, as May approached Izzy noticed that everyone seemed to be walking on eggshells. It took her longer than she’d like to admit to realise why.

Anne had become rather distant in a very short amount of time and it was beginning to frighten Izzy.

“Izzy!” Jane called up the stairs, “it’s quarter to 9!”

“I know!” Came the shouted reply, quickly followed by the sound of a door opening.

“You’re cutting it pretty close, that’s all.” Jane told her as she rushed past.

“It’s not like I’m actually learning anything.” Izzy shrugged as she opened the laptop. School was hard enough in person but online classes were hell.

“Maybe if you sat at the table instead of curling up on the lounge you’d find it easier to focus.” Catherine suggested from where she was sitting working on a crossword.

“Maybe.” Izzy said as she logged into the classroom, quickly making sure her microphone was muted.

“Look, I’m early.” Izzy held the laptop up for Jane to see.

A few minutes later the class began. Izzy kept her mic muted and chose to type her questions instead.

“Why does Izzy get to have her mic muted?” One boy complained.

“It’s not fair.” Said another.

“Maybe she’s watching tv and doesn’t want to get caught.” Said a girl.

I’m not watching telly Izzy typed.

“I’m sure you’re not, Izzy,” their teacher said, “ However, keeping your microphone off does make it harder for you to participate in class. Would you mind turning it on, please?”

Sure, but there might be some background noise. Izzy switched her mic on and her teacher continued.

“As I was saying, the author-“

“Catherine! I swear to god I’m going to kill you!” The class burst out laughing at the interruption.

“Sorry Ms Morris,” Izzy apologised, “That was my-“

“What is it this time, Anne?!” Catherine yelled back.

“Could you two shut up?! Some of us are trying to sleep!” Joan called through her bedroom door.

“Hold on,” Izzy told her teacher before disappearing from the screen, “If you’re going to fight can you at least be in the same room?!” Izzy yelled up the stairs, “My whole class can hear you!”

“Désolé chérie!” The house fell quiet again, or at least as quiet as a house inhabited by 11 people can be.

“Sorry about that.” Izzy said as she went back to the laptop.