Louie.

When I was younger I thought driving was fun. I felt like it was a huge, monumental leap into adulthood. Driving was the gateway to many adventures. If you could drive, you were Mr. Cool

Until I began driving and I realized that it wasn't everything I thought it was.

When you start to drive you have to be aware of your surroundings and check your mirrors, speed, gas tank, watch the street lights, signal to turn. When you drive you can't relax, you need to constantly be alert.

But it's that constant need to be alert that I love, because I'm in control. I'm controlling something. I may not be in control of my life but for these few minutes I'm at least in control of something. I'm holding onto a solid object that won't give way and will move with me, will listen to me.

When I'm a stop light, it registers that I'm there, that I exist.

So yes, I am happy that I'm driving even it it means I have to deal with loud, obnoxious, homosexual hipsters who like to wear ugly Christmas sweaters with work out shorts because of their broken leg and annoying, whiny step-sisters who criticize my driving.

Sometimes you have to deal with people who don't know when to shut the fuck up and let you concentrate.

"You could have made it" Lorraine pointed out when I missed the opportunity to make a left turn.

"You could shut the fuck up" I retorted automatically, my insides churning with the disgust at the vulgar language. But the regret was short lived.

"You could stop being such an ass" she shot back, rolling her eyes at me.

"You could step out of the car right now" I suggested and raised my eyebrows at her.

Lorraine just huffed and leaned back in her seat. She pulled out her cell phone and furiously began to type away. My insides churned again at the sight of her manicured nails, expensive phone and seemingly new clothes. what a spoiled bitch.

I glanced in the review mirror and watched as Rockwell pulled out his own cell phone, brown eyes meet mine briefly before I averted my attention back to the road. Awkward.

Lorraine taps at her phone screen again, both she and Rockwell erupt into a fit of giggled and look at me. I know such a thing shouldn't get to me, but it does. I tightened my grip on the steering wheel and keep my gaze ahead.

Are you fucking kidding me?

I want to tell them to stop, to shut the fuck up and stop talking about me. They have no right to judge. They know nothing about me and they never will.

~

I made a run for it when Lorraine gave me the okay to leave her and the injured wheel-chair-bound hipster alone and venture off on my own. I didn't even think twice when she gave me the freedom to leave her alone. I just pushed away from the clothes rack I was leaning on and booked it.

Next thing I knew I was thrown into the sea of people at the mall.

I was overwhelmed.

Not only was it the sudden shift of scenery, chaos and noise. But it was also because I hadn't been around, or seen anyone else beside my immediate family in so long. So naturally I just stood there in silence as people walked and talked around me. It took a second for my brain to register the fact that yes, I was in fact surrounded by others. And I had to fight the urge to cover my ears because there was so much noise.

Little by little though, I felt my body start to relax. I relished in the air-condition shopping center, and the normal sight of father and son, and mother and her kids, a couple, all walking about. My feet started to move on their own accord but I just let them carry me. I was in no rush and soon I found myself trying to spot the differences of the mall that had taken place since my absence.

I found myself in a store I had often went to, but it's trademark black and red schemed had been traded for a more neutral gray tone. And the shirt displays that use to exclusively house various rock and metal bands, was now half filled with trendy, teen heart throb shirts.

I stood in front of the displays, my eyes raking over each band name, taking in the new ones I had yet to hear of. When my eyes would land on familiar names, I took note of how different the current shirt art was to the ones I had bought years ago.

They made me throw them all way because they were old.

"Excuse me," someone asked from behind me. I quickly side stepped to allow them to walk past but my eyes immediately gravitated to the bent wood with wheels sticking out of it in the person grasp.

It was a skate board.

I use to skate.

I use to have friends who skated.

Just like how I use to have friends who had a jobs. Who had jobs in this mall.

I felt a smile spread across my face as I made a bee line for the store's exit. My feet quickly carried me through the crowd of people and towards a familiar skate board shop that I visited many times growing up.

I didn't hesitate to pull open the door and search for familiar faces. However when I found them, I couldn't find my voice. I stared at the back of heads that belonged to the people I hadn't spoken to in months. To my friends.

But I guess I didn't really have to say anything because the moment boy with red hair behind the counter looked up at me, and we made eye contact., he starts to yell. And then the four other familiar faces begin to yell with him.

But they're not yelling at me with words. They're all pointing at me and each other, like I've just gotten back from getting laid, like I've just gotten lucky or pulled the greatest stunt ever and I can't help but smile and walk towards the counter, the rest of them following me.

"Ben's alive!" the shortest of them yells, jumping into my arms and wrapping his legs around my wist. He practically smashes his head into mine, blonde tufts filling my vision. My arms instinctively hold onto him for support and I can't stop grinning. The others just cheer and whoop, patting my back in greetings.

"Where the hell have you been man?" the red head behind the counter asks, ending all the noise. The blonde in my arms pulls back his head to look at me. Brunette twins and the tall black haired boy lean against the counter and watch me expectantly. And so I explain to them what happened. How I'm no longer living with my mom and all my electronics, and job have been taken away. The five of them just nod their heads and give understanding, reassuring responses.

Then the gloomy mood shifts and we start catching up on things I've missed, on the crazy antics they've pulled, the fights that have occurred at the skate park. On chicks they've flirted with, and skateboard tricks they've finally manged to pull off.

I can't help but finally feel free, and light, and the weight that's been on my shoulders is finally lifted as I stand and talk with my friends. We're laughing and talking and it's all just how it use to be. The six of us, care-free, loud, and happy.

But lately life seems to not want me to be happy.

Because then Lorraine and Rockwell slowly make their way into the store. I see them from my peripheral vision, watching me, but I don't want to acknowledge them. I don't want them to know that I see them. I don't want them to know that I see them see me.

But of course, my friends are teenage boys and soon the topic turns to the 'hot chick that just walked in' and for some reason I feel myself getting angry. And then word vomit comes into play.

"That's my step-sister."

Then things get silent. Things get awkward and suddenly I don't feel like myself anymore. I don't feel like I have friends, or a family. I just feel strange in general. Lorraine somehow convinces me to leave and I distractedly say good-bye to my friends.

The only thing that calms my racing thoughts, is the solace of my bed and sleep.