Louie.

I can hear them down stairs.

Lorraine is talking to her mom.

Ours? Mine?Her's.

I can't hear their exact words but I know that Lorraine is complaining judging by the high, annoying pitch of her voice. However her mom's voice stays calm when ever she responds. She should be glad her mom even gives her the time of day.

It's been a week since Louie came into my room, and I guided put him back to sleep. He hasn't slept walked since, which is both a relief and concern. I'm glad I don't have to be awaken by him anymore, but I also wonder what the cause behind him sleep walking is. Do I even make sense?

I close my eyes and roll over, looking at the clock on the end table beside my bed. It's neon numbers tell me that it's noon, while my stomach alerts me that it'd be best for me to eat. I missed breakfast.

Sometimes, growing up, I'd feel so odd and different, because I could spend hour thinking, imagining, and wondering. Am I normal?

My hands tug at my hair, and pull me out of my thoughts. I sit up and spend a moment letting my mind go blank and allowing myself to get my head out of the clouds and back to reality.

I'm hungry.
I need sustenance.

I refrain from laughing at the word and make my way downstairs. I hear Louie making car sounds in his room and Lizbeth singing in the shower. Beatrice reads some random book on her bed, and I can hear my dad's snores coming from the room at the end of the hall. My footsteps are light, only giving a soft thud as I walk across the plush pale green rug that runs down the hallway.

As soon as I step into the kitchen I can feel their eyes watching me. They're shocked because I usually don't come out of my room at this time, but because my schedules been wrecked today due to my excessive thinking, I am. I walk pass them, making sure to be light on my feet to not make a sound.

I don't want to be the one who breaks the silence. That's too much pressure.

I grab a bowl from one of the cabinets and a spoon from a drawer and serve myself some of the soup Lorraine's mom made. I glance at them, raising an eyebrow and they continue their conversation, knowing I've caught them staring.

"Look Lorraine, I understand your want for a big party but right now money is tight. I'm sorry but we're just going to have to do something small this year, okay? I can make that lasagna you love so much and maybe your sisters can help me bake a cake" Beth, her mom says. Lorraine huffs.

"I suppose, that's a pretty good idea. I can invite friends right?" Lorraine asks. I hope they aren't as mush of a bitch as her.

"Of course, you're going to invite Rockwell right?" I hear her mother ask from behind me. I stir my soup and head for the refrigerator, reaching for one of the numerous bottle of waters. I pretend to look through the contents though and listen to their conversation.

"Yeah, but, it'll be difficult if he needs to get up the stairs for the restroom. . ." Lorraine trails off.

"But you can help with that right, Ben?" Beth asks, and I cringe knowing this time they've caught me eavesdropping on them.

"Hm?" I ask, pretending to not know what their talking about, even though I've caught the jist of their topic.

"Friday is Lorraine's birthday, her friends will be over and one of them recently injured his leg, he's in a cast so he'll have difficulty going up the stairs but you're going to help him. And I want you to spend time with her friends as well," She explained firmly.

I opened my mouth to object but Beth interrupted me. "You and I both know you're father would agree."

Come Friday, fuck me.