The Sky is Falling

Chapter Eleven - Finn Louis

"If home is where the heart is, then we're all just 😀, I can't remember the good old days."

Monday, May 25th

5:00 A.M

I wake up to the persistent chime of my phone, its notifications flashing in the darkness of my bedroom. Blinking away the remnants of sleep, I reach for it and squint at the bright screen. My heart sinks as I notice a slew of notifications, all buzzing with urgency. I rub my eyes and swipe open the first one: "Maple Ridge School District Closed Due to Concerns Following the Recent Disappearances and Deaths."

A knot tightens in my stomach, pulling me from the haze of sleep. I glance at the time—five A.M. The realization hits me hard. What could possibly have happened overnight that would lead to school being canceled? I scroll through articles, each headline more chilling than the last, and an overwhelming sense of dread washes over me.

As I scroll, the names leap off the screen. Ethan McFarlane... Francis Kramer... Eden Wright. Ethan and Francis were kids I'd seen in the halls, faces I'd known for years. Francis should have been gearing up for graduation, just like me. I read more of the articles. Eden... she was only eight, far too young for any of this. Each name feels like a weight pressing down on my chest, filled with the tragedies enveloping our town. I freeze, a chill coursing through my veins as I try to grasp the enormity of what I'm reading. The articles detail their deaths—vague reports of frantic searches and anguished pleas from families, each headline a fresh stab to my already heavy heart. All found dead within the past twenty-four hours.

I'm haunted by what-ifs. What if I had reached out to Zach? What if I had checked in on him more? I can't help but think that maybe, just maybe, things could have been different. The weight of guilt lingers, and my heart races at the thought of him out there, alone and vulnerable. Or next.

Zach has been missing for four days, and I can't rid the feeling that it's somehow my fault. If I had only done something differently, Zach wouldn't be in danger. What did I do wrong? Everything I do comes back to not wanting to risk a bad thing happening and it being my fault.

Suddenly, I'm that scared fifth grade kid again. The one who was just waiting for my mom to come home from work. Kept awake at night from the feeling that I could have done something–anything to save her.

I can't stand the thought of losing anyone else. I need to reach out to Elliott. My fingers hesitate over the screen. What if I say the wrong thing? What if my words somehow make things worse?

I start typing a message, trying to find the right way to say I'm sorry. "Hey Elliott, I—" No, that sounds too abrupt. I erase it. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry for last night." Too formal. I delete it again.

Each attempt spirals into a deeper web of overthinking. My thoughts churn, and with each deletion, I feel the pressure mounting. What if I type something that jinxes the situation? What if something bad happens to Zach because I didn't get this right? I type, delete, and type again.

Three dots pop up on the screen. Elliott's typing. I hold my breath, anxiety prickling at the edges of my mind. When his message finally comes through, my heart races.

"Hey I'm sorry for our argument last night."

I quickly type, "Me too. I shouldn't have accused Zach's parents."

The three dots reappear and I watch as they flicker on the screen for minutes.

"It's alright. I shouldn't have blown up like that. I just wanted to say that I'm really sorry for everything. I'm really sorry for not being there for you for your mom's funeral. It was really messed up. I should have been more supportive. I'm sorry for always being a bad friend. I'm sorry I always took you for granted. I'm sorry for all the things I've said to you. I'm sorry if I made you feel like you didn't matter. I'm sorry that I always put my stuff first and never really valued you the way you did me. I just got mad last night because I couldn't handle the truth and the stress of everything lately just boiled over. I'm sorry."