This should be interesting; a voice echoes from nothingness.
Warm summer sunlight pierces through the windows of a poorly lit room and hits a girl lying on the bed straight in the face.
She shifts, half-awake, her peaceful rest interrupted. With an annoyed groan, she turns onto her side, trying to escape the light.
It doesn't help.
She rustles around in bed, reluctant to get up, her brown, messy hair getting even messier. After a moment, she gives in and opens her eyes.
They are viridian. Her lashes are full and unruly, just like her hair, and the instant she wakes properly, a look of loathing settles on her face.
"Mhh… morning already."
Another day. Another annoying morning, she mutters to herself, still half-asleep.
From downstairs, the sound of singing drifts up. Her mood sours immediately.
At it again. Like nothing ever happened.
She sits up, pulls herself out of bed, and takes off her school uniform—the one she slept in—before stepping into the shower. As the water runs, she absentmindedly hums.
"Oh sweet summer… hmm hmm hmm hmm.
Oh pretty… hm hmm hmm…"
She steps out, throws the same uniform back on, grabs her bag from the corner of the room, and heads downstairs. As she passes the room beside hers, her eyes flick to the nameplate on the door.
Judith.
Downstairs, her parents are singing while making breakfast.
"So noisy," she narks. "Where is my food?"
Her mother points to a plate of pancakes on the side of the kitchen table, sliding a jar of honey toward her. Her father tosses her an orange and winks.
She shoves the pancakes and orange into her bag. "Do you guys always have to be so loud? It's early in the morning. Can't we ever have a peaceful morning?"
"Oh, is it the singing?" her mom says. "We're a family. This is how we show love, and besides—"
"Enough. Just forget it," she cuts in. "Where is Judith?"
"She already left," her dad replies. "She's very serious about school—unlike her big sister," he adds teasingly.
She looks away and heads for the door, clearly annoyed.
"Goodbye, Puff," her mom says.
"And have a great day at school," her dad adds.
She leaves, slamming the door behind her.
Have a great day, he says. What a stupid thing to say.
My mornings always end like this because of their shitty morning rituals. Those shitheads.
I hate noise. I hate noisy people. Babies crying, cars driving, people chatting and eating—even the sound of breathing near me. It all gets on my nerves. I mean, can't you just be quiet?
She arrives at school and heads to her class, Class 2-A, then walks to her seat in the bottom-left corner of the room.
A boy approaches her desk, a familiar smile on his face. "Good morning, Anna. Late again, I see. And grumpy as ever."
Anna shoots him a glance. "Hey. Don't you have anything better to do this morning than bother me?"
He rests a hand on her desk. "Messing with you is just so much fun. Everything else is unimportant in comparison."
"Leave me alone, Quin. Take your shenanigans somewhere else," she replies softly, not really bothered by his presence.
A group of boys enters the classroom, talking loudly among themselves.
"And he told them he had a pet bear," one of them says. "We all know it's a lie, though."
"Ugh, those noise makers are here again," Anna mutters. "Couldn't they just stay outside? The classroom is for learning. It's not supposed to be noisy. Where are the law enforcers when you need them?"
"Leave them be, you grinch," Quin says. "That's how normal kids behave." Emphasis on the normal. "Besides, classes haven't even started."
"Speaking of classes, why haven't they started yet?" Anna says. "I thought I'd be getting chewed up by Mrs. Sarah for coming late this morning. And that Mrs. Sarah—she seized my earmuffs yesterday, saying, 'You're not supposed to wear those in class, listen to your teacher when she is talking, nenene.' She'll do everything but her job."
Quin looks at her with a deadpan expression.
"So," she adds, "do you happen to have any on you?"
"Yes, I do. I always carry a pair when I know I'm going to meet you. Let me go get them."
He heads to his desk at the front of the class.
Nearby, the boys start another conversation.
"Did you hear?" one says. "There was news this morning that the government was banning certain websites. Apparently there were terrorist attacks."
"Where did you hear that?" another asks.
"On my way to school. It was trending on Toter."
"Do you think they're about to start a war?" a quieter boy adds.
"No way," the others laugh, joking about war scenarios.
Quin returns with the earmuffs. Anna asks if he heard what the boys were talking about. He shrugs it off as baseless rumors. Anna agrees.
They talk occasionally while waiting for the teachers to arrive. None of them do. From time to time, teachers pass by the classroom in a hurry without stopping. Eventually, the bell rings, signaling the end of school.
"Free day!" a girl shouts.
"We didn't even have classes today. I should have stayed home," Anna comments.
"Today is Friday. We have extracurriculars," Quin says. "Aren't you staying?"
"Have I ever?" Anna replies, standing up.
"Okay then. I'll walk you home."
They leave the school together and walk until they reach a convenience store. There, they split up—Quin taking a right, Anna going straight. They wave goodbye and head their separate ways.
As Anna walks alone, she notices something strange.
It's eerily quiet for a Friday afternoon. Not the good kind of quiet.
A bad feeling settles in her chest.
She picks up her pace, almost jogging. After a while, she reaches her house. She knocks. No answer. She tries the doorknob. It opens.
"What's going on?"
"Mom? Dad?" she calls, panic creeping in.
Her phone buzzes, it's spam, she ignores it putting her phone on silent.
The living room is empty. She checks upstairs, then their room—nothing.
Then she notices a faint light from the side.
Judith's room.
"Judith?" she calls. "Are you in there?"
She pushes the door open.
A girl wearing a pink beanie with the same brown hair as Anna sits in the dark room, her back to the door, staring at a glowing monitor. Her head blocks whatever is on the screen. It's her sister, Judith. She's still fully dressed; it's clear she went straight to the computer after getting home.
"So you heard me calling and you couldn't be bothered to answer?" Anna snaps. "Where are Mom and Dad? And why does your room smell like dust? You can't bother to clean up—always relying on others to do things for you."
Judith stays silent.
"You don't want to respond? Fine. Suit yourself," Anna mutters, storming out. That good-for-nothing.
Back in her room, she checks her phone.
Twelve missed calls—from Quin.
There's also a message telling her to come to the convenience store.
Her stomach tightens.
She calls him back. He answers immediately, panting audible on the other end.
"Where are you?"
"In my house."
"Come to the convenience store immediately. Turn off your phone. Put on the earmuffs I gave you. And don't look up on your way here."
"Wait, what do you—"
The call cuts off.
He just cut me off.
How could he do that? He's the one always bothering me. Still, it sounded urgent.
"Judith, I'm going out," Anna calls. "Tell Mom and Dad I'm with Quin when they get back."
As she leaves the house, she notices a black van parked out front, a blue line running across its center. Speakers are mounted on the roof. A red-haired woman sits in the passenger seat.
She ignores it and keeps walking.
At the convenience store, she finds Quin with a young blonde woman, red-eyed, wearing what looks like a makeshift noise blocker. Panic is written across both their faces. Quin looks relieved when he sees her.
"What could be so urgent that you need me?" Anna asks.
"Give me your phone."
She hands it to him. He throws it across the street without hesitation. It shatters.
"Hey! What did you do that for?!" she snaps.
"It's not important right now. Follow me. We need to go to the rescue point immediately."
He grabs her hand.
She pulls back. "What are you talking about? You just smashed my phone and now you're talking about some rescue point. What's your problem?"
"There's no time! Just hurry up and follow me!" Quin yells.
Anna stares at him, shocked by his tone.
"Quin, you're scaring me. Please tell me what's going on."
"It's a crisis," he says. "Something happened and now people are dying everywhere."
"Terrorists attacked," the woman adds. "They're using device screens and speakers to harm people."
"That doesn't make any sense," Anna says, anger mixing with fear. "Is that why you broke my phone?"
"What the boys were talking about earlier is true," Quin insists. "The government is trying to rescue all survivors. We need to leave now. This place is dangerous."
Anna's chest tightens.
"My family, Quin. My family," she says. "They don't know what's going on. I have to go get them."
Quin glances at the woman beside him, worry clear on his face. "Anna, was your family home? Are you sure they're okay?"
"I'm not sure about my parents," she says quietly. "But my sister—she was there. She's okay."