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Rising Unification of Ecoterrorists

Two pranks have been pulled by noon. The first is that the loudspeakers are blaring out Europe's The Final Countdown in honor of the protest taking place in a mere 11 hours and 27 minutes. During the first few loops, students cheered and sang along in the halls but, after a couple of  hours of the same song over and over, we all grew very tired of it. School policy is extremely clear that loudspeakers are not allowed to be unplugged in case an important announcement comes up, so we bear through it by clenching our hands over our ears and listening to our own music over the sound.

The second prank is actually quite funny, and I don't think a single other person is witnessing it. I take one step into the library during free-period and come to find that all of my old friends have squeezed into a single table and left me completely isolated. So, I don't bother staying. I turn around and begin walking up three flights of stairs and out a door. This leads me to the roof, where I used to spend lunch almost every day when Elio wasn't in school. It's honestly a bit nostalgic, besides the brutal temperature change. I suppose spending an hour on the roof is fine when it's 70° out, but it's 40° now and I almost go back inside. That is until I notice the football team running laps around our track. Our school colors are white and orange which leaves most jerseys to look pretty plain. Today, however, every single boy running is sporting a hot pink top and they look a bit like a swarm of preteen girls. It is absolutely hilarious.

I spend about five minutes watching them run before I abandon my post and head inside so my fingers don't freeze off. The halls are still very loud, screaming out, "IT'S THE FINAL COUNTDOWN!" around every corner. I wonder if I should go looking for Faye or head back to class or find Elio, but I don't do any of those things. I just walk out the nearest exit, board my car, and drive home, because absolutely nothing matters.

It's only 1 o'clock when I enter and, of course, my mother is sitting right there in the kitchen. Her eyes flick up to me in absolute confusion. "Sunny? Why are you home so early?"

"Felt a bit sick," I say, because I already look ill, what with my dark circles and green complexion.

"Oh," she says with a nod. "What about Elio? Did you tell him you left early?"

I kick off my shoes and smile at her. "It's funny that, even when I'm sick, you care more about Elio."

"Wait, what?"

"He's 15 years old, mom. I'm sure he'll be fine without me there."

"Okay, well, I'm sorry if I upset you. I wasn't trying to." There's a pause before she says, "Do you want me to make you some soup? Or tea?"

"No," I reply before going upstairs and shutting my door. I don't know why, but tears begin to spill from my eyes as I lean my head back to take in my bedroom. It looks sort of horrific, like a crime scene. All I need's a note at this point. The walls are covered in clues, the bed unmade, the surfaces littered with cups and trash and clothing. My wall has permanent marker on it from when I wrote, "The Rising Unification of Ecoterrorists". What had I been thinking? Would that ever come off?

I decide to clean for the first time in ages, but end up sitting on my floor after about ten minutes because I discover a collection of my old diaries. I open one from sophomore year and spend half an hour reading the entire thing. It's all very depressing, angsty teenage rants. I tear up a number of times, but full on cry on the last page where I had written:

"El has been acting a bit weird. Something might be upsetting him, but I don't really want to push. I think school is stressful for him right now. That's probably it."

How pathetic. I can't believe that I hadn't just said something. I could've helped. I could've fixed things before they started to spiral, but I didn't. I just kept on being selfish again and again and now, it's my fault that Elio isn't okay. This entire thing is my fault.