Louie.

I can't stop thinking about them.

My friends.

I miss them.

I can't stop reminiscing on all the memories I have of them. There were so many. . . when ever we'd hang out at the skate park, walk around town and do nothing but talk. The crazy dares we forced each other to do at the mall. The way we'd hang out at someone's house and stay up all night playing video games.

We were always, always laughing and I was always always with them.

They made me happy.

If I could not stand living with my mom, with her lazy ways and lack of attention, I'd just hang out with them. They were always there for me, and if not at least one of them was able to give me a place to crash or tag me along so I had to suffer with them while they ran errands with their parents. I didn't mind though, it enabled me to get closer to them, and their parents never seemed to mind, they always welcomed me with open arms.

We were all so close knit. There were times where we all felt distant from one another and awkward, unable to break the ice. But someone was always able to crack a joke and remind us that we were united. Sometimes I broke the ice, sometimes I didn't.

I miss who I was with them.

I miss feeling like myself because I haven't been.

I can't relax here in this house with my step-family.

I don't know them, they don't know me. I'm walking on egg shells and I'm so frustrated. I keep letting out all my anger and am so impolite to all of them but I can't help it.

Nobody understands me.

Not here, not right now.

And I can't make them understand.

I can't keep doing this though. All this thinking hurts, all these emotions hurt.

I can feel them all bombarding within me, and it hurts. Sometimes I feel like I can't breathe and sometimes I can't sleep.

I can feel my insides tremble as lay curled up in my bed. My fingers curl into fist and are pulled to my chest. All I can focus on is my breathing, while pain stabs at my lungs. With every inhale and exhale I can feel the urge to cry pang through me.

But I can't cry.

Don't fucking cry Ben.
Don't fucking cry Ben.
Don't fucking cry Ben.

My ears pick up Lorraine and Rockwell talking.

"Did you see him though? I mean, I may not know him for long but. . . he seemed happy" Rockwell says.

Lorraine's feminine voice follows, "I know. . . I haven't seen him like that since he's been here."

I can feel it rise up my throat, and my eyes start to water. My legs are quick to pull me out of bed and rush me down the hall to the bathroom. My body quickly push back up food from earlier into the toilet. My throat burns as I cough and gasp.

I can here feet patter down the hall ways. I wipe my mouth and look to my side, the hipster with a bright green cast fills my vision. His eyes meet mine momentarily.

"Get out" I manage to hiss, and shut the door on him.

My stomach continues to let loose everything it has. I'm reduced to kneeling over the toilet bowl as stray tears slip from my eyes.

"Are you really just going to ignore it?" Rockwell's soft voice ask from behind the door.

"I don't know what to do. . ." My eldest step sister sighs.

Neither do I.