Everything.
Everything is what's wrong. It takes all I have not to scream it out to my mom, who had asked me the ridiculous question. Instead, I faked a smile, like always, and told her that absolutely nothing was wrong and that she shouldn't worry about it. She smiled and kissed my head, grabbing her work jacket off the hook. She worked constantly, hardly getting thirty minutes a day to come home, eat, and change into clothes for her night job. My dad was an alcoholic, you see. He was in rehab. He wasn't a bad person, oh no, he was wonderful. I looked up to him in every way, but that. That one, imperfect flaw. The flaw that had wrecked our family, tearing it to shreds, right before my eyes. The flaw that lead my sister to moving out and my brother's spirit to be crushed, right before my eyes.. Daisy, my sister, moved in with her boyfriend in the next city over. She was only seventeen, three years older than I and my brother, Frankie. Frankie was smaller than I was, but definitely my favorite person in the world. We got along very well, closer than most brothers and sisters. We had always been in each other classes up until sixth grade, being as we are the same age, both fourteen years old now. And we are similar in personalities, except I'm a lot darker, a lot more hidden behind my smile and my sharp, gray eyes. Frank knew everything about me, my anxiety, my depression, my suicidal thoughts. Everything. And he comforted me the best he could, telling me how much he cared and that I did have friends. Tonight, he was out with some new friends of his. I didn't really have any friends, except Frank, and my cat, Becquerel. He was a little white cat, constantly disappearing, but reappearing right when I needed him. He wasn't here at the moment, probably off chasing birds or sitting in a tree, looking at the sky. He liked to do that. I said goodbye to Mom, who was leaving for her night shift as a nurse. She blew me a kiss before locking the door behind her. I felt a sense of dread in my stomach, same as I always do when I'm left home alone. I hated being home alone. My anxiety nearly killed me, eating me up inside with what ifs and this could happens. I wish Frank was home. He always hung out with me. And I wouldn't be alone. We actually still shared a room, equipped with bunk beds. But I insisted that he went out with his friends tonight. I didn't want to be a burden, keeping him from things he'd rather be doing. He said he might bring them over after they ate dinner and say the movie they were going to see. But I really didn't know about that. I didn't like meeting new people much. They usually scared me, especially the horribly friendly ones. People like that just got under my skin. I could never understand how people could be so laid back around people they didn't know. I was never like that. Ever. The kids at school didn't like me much. They mostly called me an emo whore and then went on to taunting some other kids. They didn't pay much attention to me. They were right, of course, when they said these things about me, how fat and ugly I was. I would never deny it. Frankie told me every day that it wasn't true and to stop thinking that way. But I never heeded his words. I sat down and turned on the TV, putting on Death Note, an anime that I had watched for a while now. Frank and I did this thing, where we would each watch a show, never with the other, and then tell the other if the show was good or not when they finished. If it was good, the other one would watch it. If it wasn't, they would find something else and see if it was better. He had seen Death Note and had recommended it. He, of course, had been right about it being awesome and had got me into it in about four days. I watched about four episodes of DN before I heard the front door being unlocked. Assuming it was Frank, but still having my doubts, I turned off the TV and peered around the corner to where the front door was being opened. Sure enough, in walked my brother with three other guys about our age. They were laughing about something Frank said. I became suddenly aware was what I was wearing. Just an old t shirt and shorts, my hair up in a messy ponytail. Feeling self conscious, I sat back down on the couch. Frank plopped down next to me and gave me a grin: "Hey Jack! How are you? Whatcha been up to?" The others guys sat down in the chairs and the other couch near the very same couch I was sitting upon. I shrugged, keeping my gaze on Frank. "Sitting around, watching DN. Same thing I always do." I said casually, trying my best to make it sound like I wasn't a huge loser. Frank laughed. "Of course you were. Anyway, these are my friends, Mikey-" The smallest boy, besides Frank that is, waved shyly and pushed his glasses back up his nose, as they had been sliding. "-Ray-" The Boy with the very curly, long hair waved cheerily, giving me a friendly smile. "-And Gerard." The boy with the long, black hair raised his hand slightly as a greeting. He seemed uncomfortable, shifting his feet and looking at his white Converse. He finally met my gaze, his hazel eyes almost the same color as Frankie's, but with more green. His gaze immediately dropped after meeting my gray eyes. Frank smiled at us all, probably expecting us to hug and start chatting about our day, but I didn't really slide that way. These guys seemed nice and all, and if Frank liked them, I would try my best to as well, but I still had only just met them. Frank introduced me as Jack, my nickname, for if he called me by my birth name, I would kill him. They all said hi and Ray started talking to me. "So...What do you like to do?" He asked, trying for friendly conversation. I thought a moment. "Well...I, uh..." Frank interjected for me, knowing exactly what I liked to do: "She likes to draw and make music." I nodded. "What he said." I mumbled softly. Gerard had looked up when this was mentioned, suddenly seeming interested in our conversation. Ray smiled. "That's really cool. Sounds a lot like what Gerard here likes to do." Gerard nodded, shyly smiling. His smile made his face ten times cuter than it already was. I wasn't going to deny that he was good looking. Frank had told me about the guys a couple of times, listing their interests, music tastes, favorite shows, lots of things. I, being the sucker for my brother that I am, listened and assured Frank that they sounded wonderful and that I couldn't wait to meet them. Frank mentioned he had called Mom and asked if the guys could spend the night. She, of course, said yes, being the usual wonderful person she was. The guys had called their moms on the way home as well and they were all aloud to stay for the night. Frank cheerily told me: "You're absolutely welcome to hang out with us, Jackzy. I'd be thrilled to see you guys become friends!" I exchanged glances with the other guys, who nodded ever so slightly. I could tell that they loved Frank almost as much as I did, and wanted to see him happy. I sighed quietly, but smiled a genuine smile, the kind only Frank, Bec, and my other best friend, Mitch, could get out of me. Mitch and I had been friends always. When Frank was hanging out with other people, for he had lots of friends, being such a likable guy and all, I would head downstairs to Mitch's apartment downstairs. He, his sister and his mother had lived there since before we had, so when we moved here, when Frank and I were three and Daisy was six, his mother, Jocelyn, had brought Mitch over when she came to say hello and welcome to the building. She was a single mom who worked. A lot. But she was sweet as could be and, like my mom, cared so much for Frank, Mitch, and I. I hadn't seen Mitch in a little while. I would probably call him later. He had made it absolutely impossible for me to dislike him.
