Even Through Oblivion

Breakfast and Other Small, Unimportant Things

I liked breakfast, my usual bowl of cornflakes with a teaspoon of sugar.
I don't understand people who can eat something different for breakfast every day. They confuse me.
Breakfast is a ritual, a routine. It should be the same thing. I don't know, maybe that's just me.
My brother eats different cereal every morning. Yesterday he ate captain crunch, now he sat hunched over his phone eating a bowl of lucky charms.
I don't understand the method in his madness, but each to their own. It was his food, I wasn't going to mess up his schedule.
I stared blankly at the television, frowning a little when my usual dose of childhood cartoons flicked to a picture of a young boy's face, the words 'missing, young boy aged 16' flashing across the bottom.
I listened for a while, until my brother groaned loudly.
"Can you turn that depressing crap off? It's getting me down." He asked. I nodded.
"Mikey, watch your language." My mother said from the kitchen. Mikey rolled his eyes, ignoring her. I turned the tv off like he asked, and got up to wash out my bowl.
"I'm gonna head off now. Are you driving Mikey or is he staying home?" I asked mum. She shrugged, looking over to Mikey.
"Let him stay. He needs some time." She said. I nodded, smiling a little before grabbing my bag and walking to school.

I saw a few classmates walking to my first period class, but none I particularly wanted to converse with. I didn't have many friends, partly because I didn't like social interaction, partly because I didn't trust myself enough to care for another persons needs.
Heck, I barely cared for my own.
My first class of today was my favorite, German. I wasn't good at it, but languages were interesting. The different ways whole countries decided to base their grammar laws, and different ways different parts of that country chose to use those grammar laws.
Our teacher sat at the front of the class marking our homework while we finished a worksheet. I didn't understand properly, I'd google it when I got home.
The teacher, along with half the class, jumped as the loudspeaker clicked on, a second of silence before anyone spoke.
"All students are to be sent home immediately. There has been a town-wide curfew put into place by the government. Streets will be empty by six o'clock every night, anyone who is found outside after then will be prosecuted. School times have been moved to start from seven in the morning to one in the afternoon. The reasons are classified, but you should all be put at ease knowing this is for your safety." The voice was foreign, nobody I had heard before. I could hear a few snickers from around me, but they slowly died out as everyone realized this was serious. I stood up, blocking out the chaos slowly unfolding around me as I tried to piece together what was going on.
It could have something to do with that boy on the television this morning. What was his name? Fred or something, I think. Oh well.
I put my books back into my bag and made my way home, still ignoring the scared cries of my fellow students as I walked.
"Mom?" I called, walking into my house. Mikey sat on the couch playing Mario Cart, his favorite game.
I put my bag in my room, and kicked my shoes off, before sitting down to join him.
"Mom went to talk to dad at the station. Says maybe he'll know what's going on." Mikey said, not turning to face me as he kept playing. I shrugged, nodding.
"So you heard?" I asked. He paused the game and turned to me, a serious look on his face.
"What do you think's going on?" He looked scared, and he had every right to be. I frowned, debating what to tell him. During the time the announcement was broadcast and the time before I got home, I had come up with a few theories.
The boy we saw on television earlier could very well have something to do with this. It also said he was sixteen, so school aged.
Using that information, I guessed that he was most likely either dangerous, or considered to be a threat of some sort to someone.
"I think they're just trying to keep us safe." I decided to save his thoughts. He was only young, and though he was smarter than any fourteen year old I know, he didn't need to stress about this.
Not now, especially.
"You're just saying that so I don't worry, which makes me worry even more because I know if it was something dumb you'd just tell me. I'm not an idiot, Gerard. A little fucked up, maybe, but I'm not an idiot." He said, frowning. I laughed a little.
"I know. But you don't need to know what I'm thinking, Mikey." I said. He rolled his eyes, but didn't ask again.
We played Mario Cart for a few hours, until mom got home. She told Mikey and I to get ready for bed, so we did.