** Wednesdays is a game that explores child sexual abuse and the difficult conversations, trauma and troubles that arrive in the aftermath of it. As such, this article will discuss the same ideas. Reader discretion is advised. **
Experts say that trauma is felt and stored in the body. When a traumatic event happens, your body enters fight or flight and, more often than not, people who experience a traumatic event are in that state for the rest of their lives. This has impacts on bodies: memories aren’t always all there and are often in snapshots or a foggy haze, things one considers normal and part of everyday life will be alien and strange to others, feelings of lethargy or listlessness could follow you through a majority of your days. This is called CPTSD (complex post-traumatic stress disorder). The game Wednesdays explores these ideas, specifically through the lens of a survivor of child sexual abuse and incest. It is a story not about the events or what led up to them, but what comes after. It captures this all beautifully, emotionally but also with an artful, delicate touch.
Wednesdays follows Tim, a victim of child sexual abuse. Booting up a video game for the first time in years, memories flood back to his childhood about events big or small, formative moments that explain why he is who he is today. What ensues is a series of lightly interactive memory vignettes (17 of them) to experience to help untangle the recesses of Tim’s mind and build the full picture of just what happened to him and where to go from here.
These scenes vary in intensity and how much they delve into the details of the trauma Tim is affected by, but crucially, not a single scene depicts any of the assault that he or other characters experience. What we do get is moments where we see him in odd situations, ones where his connection with others is disjointed. Thankfully, it all builds to him opening up to people and getting his story out there.
One thing that can happen when you’re a victim of child sexual assault is that you have a stunted idea of how the world should be and what ongoings in your life should or shouldn’t be considered ‘normal.’ A key example of this is when Tim is at a friend’s place, playing ‘The Legend of Felda’ on an old CRT television. Their gameplay is interrupted by the friend’s brother entering, taking over the television and watching porn right in front of the pair of them. This scene lingers and there’s a discomfort in the air, but the two kids, who can’t be any older than twelve, don’t have the words or understanding to object. Then Tim leaves the room and the scene ends.
There are many other examples of this warped sense of being that can come with being a victim. Tim, in several parts of the game, is convinced he’s gay, solely because of the assailant being male. Even though you and I know that’s not how it works, but that’s all there is to go off as a kid that’s been through such stuff. It results in friendly hangouts with childhood friends of the same age, having a sexual undertone that wouldn’t otherwise be there, due to a different understanding of bodies and how they work.
As a victim of a lot of the same stuff that Tim went through myself, parts of the storytelling are painfully real and accurate and resonate. The lens of the memory storytelling is a superb analogy for this. Tim is unlocking memories via a Rollercoaster Tycoon-esque game known as ‘Orca Park.’ As you build ‘attractions’ and rides for your park, set on an island, you are unlocking these memories and you’re often not doing so in order. Like recollecting traumatic events and the timeline for them in your life years later, you’re doing so for Tim through the lens of nostalgia.
Orca Park is set on an island. This visual worked for me because it relates to how I’ve come to terms with my own trauma over the years. When I was younger and didn’t have the words or understanding for what happened to me, I made myself an island in my mind, exiled from everyone else. I told no one of what happened to me. It’s only in the years since that I’ve started to make sense of it all; the memories have become clearer, and I’ve allowed more people to visit my island. Like the visitors at Orca Park and the people Tim eventually leans on, I am not alone.
Though Wednesdays features the same style as the medium, it could not have been made as a graphic novel. This is due to the interactivity and ingenious storytelling that only comes with it being a game. There are intense scenes where you don’t have any real threat staring you down, but you and Tim alike are nervous about how you want to talk to people about the assault. One palpable moment of this is when you’re instead controlling one of Tim’s friends talking about another instance of assault. You’re driving a car and Tim in the passenger seat asks if you’re okay. All the narrative options say something like, “I need to talk to you about something“. However, when you click on all the options, they all change to different non-committal responses to Tim, avoiding the topic.
In saying that, I’m also immensely glad that a graphic novel is the art style that Wednesdays is presented in. It allows for striking imagery and visual motifs and metaphors where anyone who is a victim of sexual assault in the story’s universe has a cube for a head. The idea behind this is that these are people who are closed off and feel trapped in their own minds, their heads feeling heavy and like they’re frozen. One quintessential scene that really works for this imagery is when Tim and one of his friends who was also assaulted are hanging out, Tim sitting in place as the friend paints him. As they both talk about their assaults, you get to choose how you want to depict Tim in the art piece, whether that’s angry, healed, in mourning, or so on. It’s powerful, artful stuff.
Wednesdays tackles a lot of difficult topics but it does so with unbelievable grace. Prior to every scene there are content warnings for specifics for what will be discussed/happen in that scene. Players can opt out of a scene they’re concerned about and still continue the experience. An Orca whale, the mascot of Orca Park, regularly checks in with you and reminds you to take a break.
It’s an experience that made me cry a lot, but it isn’t reckless with its teachings and storytelling. It’s simply something that should be played by just about everyone and is certainly a title I’ll point others to if they want to learn more about the topic. Wednesdays emphasizes the importance of the power that can come in finding your voice and leaning on others. Because let me tell you, you’re not alone.
Wednesdays is available now on PC and if you’ve the strength to play it, I can’t recommend it enough.
About the Author
Charlie Kelly
She/Her, They/Them
Charlie loves her video games as much as she loves dumb, charming JRPG protagonists: probably way too much. You can often catch her spending too much time being emotional over LGBT stories in games. She also thinks Yakuza 6 is the best one.
