to solve a problem (you follow it back to the start)

2- A duck, a big fat liar from Ohio and some Cloverfield shit

VERONICA

Veronica has been having a bad day ever since the duck puked on her shoes.

Scratch that, Veronica has been having a bad day for the past nine days.

Her string of bad luck began on a casual Thursday afternoon, 9 days prior, with a guy she didn't know showing up on her front door, wearing a fancy suit and sunglasses, holding a picture of her wife -it was an old photo, taken before they met but it was undoubtedly her- and asking about someone named Heather Chandler. When her wife showed up at the door, and the man brought up the name again, Jessica's face darkened and she threatened to call the police if the man didn't leave, but in no moment did she deny his accusations.

Things only got worse when the man finally left, and Jessica and Veronica were alone in their apartment again, the tension hovering above them like a dark, heavy cloud. Veronica asked the questions that were running wild inside her head, Jessica refused to answer every single one of them; their conversation soon turned into a heated argument, they yelled, they cried, they cursed each other, until Jessica stormed out of the house. Veronica doesn't know what time she came back, but when she woke up Jessica -Heather, she keeps forgetting that that's her real name- was asleep on the couch. Without allowing herself to think twice, Veronica grabbed her keys and left.

Veronica thought some time for herself would be good, to clear her head and process the fact that the person she loves isn't who she thought she was. Veronica doesn't even know why she decided to go to the cabin, she hadn't been there in years, but she needed to get out of the house, and away from Heather, and from the ugly shards of what was left of her perfect life.

She used the thirty five hour drive to cry, curse -both Heather for being a goddam lying bitch and herself for being a stupid fuck and falling for it -eat, and break her 23 days without smoking record, which made her feel fucking great and disgusting at the same time.

After the storm that took her by surprise in Nebraska, the awful motel she had had to sleep in with the loud couple next to her, and the fact that she lost her charger at a 7-11, Veronica had expected to find peace in the welcoming arms of her childhood home. But as it turns out, the week's episode of 'Let's see how much stress Veronica Sawyer can take before she has a stroke and dies at the ripe age of 28' was not over yet. Because Veronica had forgotten that her parents stopped going to the cabin for a reason: the house was a fucking mess, and every time she tried to fix an issue, multiple others appeared, like a hydra sprouting more and more heads every time one of them got cut.

After three days in the house, the flickering lightbulb in the hallway had been driving her insane, so she drove 30 minutes to buy a new one. When she went to the attic to find a toolbox, she noticed one of the walls covered in black mold. As the days went on, her list of goals changed from 'Forget about her wife' to 'Forget about her wife, fix the lightbulb, get rid of toxic mold, rebuild the wall, rewire the ceiling, clean out the bathroom and kitchen pipes and take care of the freaking duck she found.' What a week.

And of course, as the cherry on top, Heather had appeared out of nowhere with her stupid full of regretful face and her stupid 36 questions. And Veronica, like the idiot she is, fell for her schemes once again.

Now, Veronica is seated on the living room's cold wooden floor, as the storm keeps soaring outside like some Cloverfield shit, the papers that Heather brought spread carelessly next to Veronica's crossed legs like the big, preposterous elephant that it is; behind her, Henry strodes around, probably looking for cheerios or anything else he can snack on; above her, on her childhood bedroom, is her lying wife rummaging through Veronica's old clothes.