𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 ━ five hargreeves

4│WAKING UP TO ASH AND DUST

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❛ ᴡᴀsᴛᴇʟᴀɴᴅs ᴏғ ᴛɪᴍᴇ​​​​​​​​​​. ❜ ° . ༄
- ͙۪۪˚   ▎❛ 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑 ❜   ▎˚ ͙۪۪̥◌
»»————- ꒰ ᴡᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴜᴘ ᴛᴏ ᴀsʜ & ᴅᴜsᴛ ꒱


❝ WHAT THE HELL? ❞

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Lola didn't know what woke her but she groaned and opened her eyes, lifting her head from where her cheek stuck to the page she'd been writing on before she'd fallen asleep. The basement was pitch-black as her candles had burned out while she'd been resting. Unbothered, the brunette stood, stretched and made her way to the wall where she knew the light switch was. After patting the guessed area, her hand hit on the dimmer and flicked it up. Nothing happened.

She moved it up and down several more times and the room remained completely dark. Frowning in confusion, Lola guessed that they'd lost power during the night for some reason. With no windows in the basement it was impossible to tell what time it was or if a weather event had happened. Shrugging, she stepped twice to the right and placed her hand on the banister to guide her steps up the stairs. Only— she hit her head halfway up.

"Ouch!" the girl yelped, and rubbed the sore spot on her head. What the hell? The ceiling was never this low before! There were fifteen steps from the door to the bottom of the basement. Lola had only gone up seven. 

She pushed on the supposed ceiling tentatively. No movement. 

"Hey, guys? Mom? Dad?" she called, hoping someone would hear.

There was no way the ceiling was caved in, right? How would that even be possible? Maybe her uncle was pulling a prank on her and had stuffed obstacles down the stairs so she couldn't come up.

"Uncle Ed? You're really very funny! Haha!" she tried, hoping it would convince him to help move the stuff.

Then, something shifted and movement by her feet made her jump, causing her to yelp. There's no mice down here, idiot. Her mother would never allow that, so what had fallen by her foot?

Still in pitch-blackness, Lola made her way back down the stairs until she was on the last one. Gripping the banister carefully, she moved her foot into the empty space below the final step until she hit what had fallen. Bending over, she was surprised by the weight of the item.

Lola moved the object between her hands to feel the roughness and shape of it. It wasn't any sort of object used for a prank, she determined. It felt like a part of her house. But how could that be right?

Stay calm, Lola, she told herself, there's a reasonable explanation for this. Maybe mom decided to renovate the upstairs, started this morning and forgot you were down here? That seemed a little far-fetched. What about school? Her mother always checked the basement if Lola wasn't in her room and it had to be around the time she had to get ready.

Dropping the loose object, the girl made her way back up until her head brushed the blockage again, "MOM? DAD?" she yelled and strained her ears for an answer.

What the hell happened last night? Or early this morning, she supposed. She called for her parents several more times, all of which went without response. Turning, she sat down on the seventh step and buried her face in her hands; the sudden coverage of her eyes made no difference with the black of the room.

Okay, she thought, you know the basement. What could you use to help you?

There were drills and electrical cords so she could drill herself out but she'd never used the tools before; her mom would go nuts and there seemed to be no power. She had candles so she could burn her way through but if it was mostly cement on top of her so that wouldn't help. Paint was useless and so were light bulbs. She doubted there was something useful in the holiday section. Did they have a pick axe? Those couldn't be so hard to use. Or maybe an anvil and a hammer.