Disturbing the Peace

Chapter 18

So guys, I noticed that on my Prologue I have 63 reads! But on other chapters I have 2 to 25 reads...

Did I do something wrong? If you guys have any advice for me about how to improve, I'd love to hear it! You can comment it or private message it. I just want to know why I'm losing reads as the chapters continue. Do you think they'll come back later and read the rest...? O.o

Stay Gold!

~cmfsif

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I wake up at 5 AM and can't get back to sleep. It was one of those awful nights where I couldn't get to sleep till around 2 AM and now I can't get back to sleep. School starts tomorrow. That means it's been 2 weeks and 6 days since Leo got into the hospital. You know what else it means? My friends have to quit smoking in a month and a week. How am I going to pull this off?

I've tried saying things to them multiple times but I always chicken out in the end.

I get up and change out of my floral PJ's. "Today's the day I'm going to tell them to stop," I mumble to myself. Only one problem with that: I've been waking up and telling myself that everyday for the past week.

I throw my head into my cold, dry hands and make a moaning sound equivalent to that of a lost puppy. "I'm never going to tell them, am I? I'm just going to let us all go to jail. Why couldn't they just have common sense, like I did?" I groan. "Why am I talking to myself?"

My blonde hair can almost reach the floor as I bend over. I look through my drawers and pull out my flowered bell bottoms and a tight purple tee-shirt. These past couple weeks, I noticed that we've entirely let up on our fight to stop the war and for animal rights and all of our other beliefs. Literally, in all the chaos, it had just escaped our brains. That's why, for the past week, we helped a local committee of peace-lovers, such as ourselves, organize a peace rally.

Rain knocks on my door. "Hey, Willow!" she chirps.

"Hey! I'm so psyched for the rally."

"I know, it's gonna be far out, man!" she says, sounding slightly drowsy.

I swear I'm going to slap all of my friends if they don't stop with the hippie talk. Is there a happy medium between standing up for our beliefs and talking like we took a time machine from the 60s to here?

Marc and Ferris appear behind her. Noticing her slightly slumped posture and the slur of her words, I stare at her disapprovingly. "Did you smoke this morning?"

"Only a little," she assures. "Why? You've been acting so weird lately!"

"It's because I'm stressed, okay? I haven't smoked since Leo's accident and you guys all need to quit too!" I scream out, lifting a huge weight from my chest.

Their eyes all widen. "Willow, I think you might be coming down with something," Ferris speaks as he tiptoes slowly towards me. He pulls something out of his pocket. A thin white cylinder-ish figure. "Just take a smoke, it'll calm you down. You've been depriving yourself for 3 weeks."

I stare at the joint. I stand there and stare at it. I reach my hand out. I try to restrain myself, but I have an addiction. I'm trying so hard to get over it, but I have an addiction. My hand hovers over it, water droplets forming at the corners of my eyes. My friends smile at the fact that I'm about to take it. And just as my fingers are about to touch it, so I can taste that sweet nicotine, I remember something I'd been trying to suppress. So much of my brain had been trying to put it away so that I would just take the joint. The image of Leo, as happy as could be, hanging out with us in the woods. And then, when the truck hit him, and the crack of his spine that I still have nightmares about. Leo, thinking about giving up, and me giving him my scarf. But the worst one, was the shocks of electricity as the doctor screamed out, "Clear!" The defibrillators jolting his body. His motionless body. Motionless because Rain, Marc, and Ferris had been smoking and they messed with his machinery. And it all started with....

My vision refocuses as I stare at that white joint, my fingers hovering just centimeters above it. "No!" I scream, as I thrust my hand down at full force, smacking Ferris' hand and causing him to drop the joint. "Can't you all see that the only reason Leo is in the hospital is because of our reckless behavior while we are high?"

They don't look convinced. "Whatever, Willow," Rain says. "I think you're crazy, because we had been smoking for, like, forever before and this is the first time something bad has happened. "

I run out of the room, pushing through all of them, and heading to the peace rally, not wanting more drama. I want to show them the videos Kevin gave me, to make them believe me. I want them to know that what we were doing was far from harmless, besides the fact that we were damaging our lungs. I want to show them that they're under the spell of nicotine, and they're not controlling their own lives. But I'm not allowed to tell them about Kevin.

When I get outside, I look around, trying to find a trace of a camera. I see nothing. Stupid super secret government technology. Finally, I just look upward. "You say you're always watching us, Kevin!" I scream. "Well, what do I do now?!" I'm past all reason at this point. I'm past feeling like being a good person like I have felt like for my entire life, and right now, I'm just mad. I run down the hill towards the park. I begin doing an awkward jogging in place/fighting stance to try and channel all of this built up energy I'm getting from my anger. I literally feel like I could just punch through a wall. I look at the blue sky, and the lush green trees that have a few leaves beginning to transform into their fall colors. I even pick out cars and watch them until I can't see them anymore-anything to calm myself down.

A few minutes later, Kevin's shiny, black, expensive-looking car pulls up to the curb. Secretly, I had been praying that he would. "I tried, Kevin!" I lash out at him as soon as he leaves his car. "I was right the whole time! They'll never listen to me! If only Leo, we're here. He'd be able to get them to stop with a snap of his fingers!"

"Willow, calm dow-"

"Why should I?" I interrupt. "I was calm for most of my life. I think it's about time I show some emotion." I don't even know why, but I feel like crying. I've cried so much lately that it just seems so natural. I fight the tears, creating a pain in my sinuses. "Why did I have to get into drugs in the first place, Kevin?" I ask as though he'd know the answer.

"Willow, how are we going to get them to stop smoking?" Kevin asks.

I sigh. "I don't know. They won't listen to me. And I can't tell them about you."

We both stand there and think for a second. Our conclusion? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

"This is stupid," I deadpan. "I'm done being the nice girl. They're going to quit whether they want to or not."

And before Kevin can respond and put any logic or reason into my head, I storm off towards the lot for the peace rally.

When I get there, I look around; it's an abandoned lot with over-growing greens and vines crawling up the trees which expand on for acres to the right. There's a few people setting up a podium on the makeshift stage made of plastic.

"Can I do anything to help?" I ask. "I'm Willow Anderson, co-director of this rally. Lorraine, Marcus, and Ferris should be here soon." Their full names feel funny on my tongue.

They gesture for me to come over and help them set up the banners.

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People begin arriving with signs, some in brightly colored clothes, most not. I watch as the people spill in for this peace rally against Obama sending out drones to other countries. It really is beautiful seeing all of this happening from the stage. People who probably don't even know each other all joining together to defeat a stronger force. Not a lot of people show up, only about 30. People in this town don't really listen to us, but it still seems beautiful to me. I look at my friends, and for the first time since the accident, I give them a genuine smile. I regain my state of mind, remembering why I started this risky path in the first place. We are going to change the world as soon as they stop smoking. I just know it.

I go up to the podium to speak, "Testing mic. Testing 1,2,3!" And surely enough, my voice booms through the lot.