Louie.

If you thought I'd start being nice to them after they took care of me when I was sick, you are so fucking dead wrong.

They may have helped me in my weak state, but that doesn't mean I'll grow fond towards any of them over night. Things went back to normal after I got better. They annoyed me, I yelled, Lorraine and I fought verbally, Beth tried to reason with me and my father attempted to play is fatherly role. Which doesn't fucking work when you've been out of my life for fifteen years.

I don't like them, any of them. Louie is such a baby half the time, Lizbeth is a spoiled bitch, Beatrice always has to put in her two cents, Lorraine is just an annoying drama queen, her mom tries to keep us all under control, and my father and I have no relationship.

They said being here would be better than being with my mom. They were wrong. It's the same, except I have no phone, no job, no driver's license, no friends and no outlet to get rid of my pent up emotions. With my mom I had all of those things I wanted, sure I had to deal with her lack of parenting and selfishness but at least I had ways to escape. But with my dad I don't.

I am at a read light that doesn't register I'm there and won't turn green.

And I don't know what to do.

I feel like a ticking bomb half the time and my insides are a mess. I feel like a house in a hurricane. I feel so fucking depressed half the time.

All I do is lay in bed, and think, and think. And eat, and think, and sleep, dream, think.

I have so much negativity pent up in me, I know I do.

The only thing that has changed since the time I moved in is that ugly-hipster-sweater Rockwell keeps coming around to hang out with Lorraine. I'm suppose to be helping him up the stairs, but Lorraine does it most the time because we both know I don't want to have any part of it.

They usually talk obnoxiously loud in her room and occasionally play with my younger siblings. They kept playing some cross-over of hide-and-seek and Marco-polo where they'd hide, cover their eyes and ask each other to clap to find someone. It was pretty entertaining to hear, until Rockwell almost fell down the stairs.

Apparently one broken leg is enough.

Sometimes when the doors to all their rooms were closed I'd try to eaves drop of what they were saying, which was usually uninteresting.

Even with the television free of use I couldn't bring myself to watch it, I was just so bored with everything. Nothing on any of the channels would entertain me.

"Ben," Beth calls, stepping down from the stairs. Lorraine and Rockwell both appear beside her. Lorraine smirk as she braids a few strands of her hair. Rockwell's eyes wander about the room.
Beth crosses her arms and takes a deep breath and that is when I know she's going to ask me something I don't like.

"This is how it's going to go down, I have to watch Louie, Lorraine is a brat," tell me what new, "and you're a lazy ass, so I'm going to give you this one chance, and you better not blow it, you hear me."

I tilt my head at them. Beth pulls something out of her pocket, a card.

"You're going to drive them to the mall."

The unfamiliar face of a beaming boy catches my attention on the card, it's my face, it's my driver's license.