Levels of Stress

Level Four

My friends weren't dumb. When something was wrong, they knew. Even if I didn't tell them, they knew. It's been a mystery, but I know they're just that good of friends.

Some of my friends had been through what I have. Some felt less pain, some felt more. It hurt knowing that they were going through what I had been this whole time. I wanted to stop everyone else's pain, even if it meant sacrificing mine.

I waited at school, sitting on the curb, watching to see if it was the black or blue car coming to pick me up. They never worked out a good schedule. Guess who was paying for it.

A black car just barely missed the grass as it flew off of the road and into the parking lot. I gripped the straps of my backpack tightly and stood up, holding my chin up high.

He unlocked the door for me, acting like it took a great effort for him to press the button. Before I could even get myself completely into the car, he started driving. I pulled myself together and strapped in, holding onto the bottom of the seat for dear life.

After school, my dad wanted nothing to do with me. He would throw his keys on the counter, toss himself on the couch, and turn on the television. I was never to see him again.

That was quite fine with me. Ever since the divorce, my father and I never got along. He always assumed I favored my mother, which was almost the case.

I dragged myself up the stairs and fell back onto my bed, holding my head as it thumped. Level four, of course. I knew it before it even set in.

As I continued to worry about it, I almost skipped level four and drove myself right into level five. That is, if it wasn't for a text that rolled in.

"How ya doing little bro?" she asked with a smiley emoticon.

I smiled. If anyone got me to do that, they were pretty damn special, and my 'big sister' is.

"I'm doing good, how about you?" I replied.

Not many people knew me better than Mona did. She knew exactly how to put a smile on my face and convince me that I was okay. When I talked to her, I knew that my life wasn't so bad because there were people that cared about me.

We talked about music, which was the reason why we met. We both had an ear for punk rock, specifically Fall Out Boy and Panic! at the Disco. We talked about the members and how talented they were.

I told her about Belle and what had happened yesterday. She was overjoyed. Mona wasn't a friend to fake happiness for me. I was her little bro. When I was happy, she was happy; and it went the other way around too. If she wasn't happy, I would do everything and anything to fix it. It was only fair since she does the same to me.

Time flew by and my eyes grew tired. My head hit the keyboard, waking me up enough to reply to her goodnight text.

"I love you, goodnight <3" I said and quickly locked my phone before rolling over for bed.

Probably without even knowing, Mona had taught me a lesson. I learned the meaning of family. Family doesn't mean blood. You don't have to be related to someone to call them your family.

Family is the group of people who care about you as much or even more than you care about them. Belle, Jennifer, Ally, Danielle, Mona, and even new friends like Lucy and Skye were my family. And family never dies.

Level Four: Family Stress