I lay awake, unable to sleep for what feels like the hundredth night. I stared at the ceiling becoming more aware of the noises that plagued my sleepless nights, with memories of pain and fear. I sighed and rolled over. I shut my eyes and let the memories replay themselves in my mind. I was seven years old when I found out I would soon have a new baby brother. I was excited like any child would be for the arrival of a new member of the family. But, when the day came that I would meet my new sibling, something changed. My parents started to ignore me. Yell at me. Hit me. I didn't understand at the time. I asked what I did, and they replied saying I had been born. They said that they only wanted to keep Cameron, my brother, and they wish they could just get rid of me once and for all. I never hated my brother for their choice; I still loved him yet envied him at the same time for the love that I wish they showed me once again. They didn't just ignore me; they left me alone at hours at a time, forcing me to learn how to fend for myself at a young age. They also ordered me to clean the house, and every mess they made, guess who had to pick it up. Me. But, that I could handle. What I couldn't handle was when they would corner me, and beat me. The memory that was the most painful happened six short years ago. I was ten years old.

I just returned from hockey practice, and set my bag on the floor next to the door. I heard a loud cry from upstairs and I watched my mom hurry to attend to Cameron. I hung up my jacket on the coat rack, picked up my bag, and headed up the stairs. I headed into my practically empty room, and placed my bag on the bed. I sat down next to it and looked around. My walls were bare white, giving the room a hospital like atmosphere. My bed was practically in the center of the room, and the only other furniture in the room was a single oak wood dresser in the corner. My room at one time was filled with toys and posters, but they were given to my brother after he was born. In the middle of my thoughts, my mother came into my room and pulled me by the arm into my brother's room. Ever since he was born, the only one who could ever stop his cries was me, so whenever my mom couldn't get him to sleep she made me do it. I leaned over his bed and picked him up gently. I rocked him back and forth until he fell asleep in my arms. I set him down slowly and tiptoed out of the room, closing the door behind me. As soon as I slipped out of the room, I felt a hand clamp onto my arm. I was dragged down the stairs, being pushed into the wall on the way down. She pulled me into the kitchen, and shoved me over to the sink. "What are those?" she asked, sticking her face into mine. "Uh a few dirty dishes," I replied looking down. "I thought you said you finished them last night,' she screamed into my face, shoving me into a wall in the process. "I-I did," I answered avoiding eye contact. "Liar," she said harshly. I felt her hand make contact with my face. I gingerly touched the area. "You know you are lucky you even live here. We could have given you away, but no we were kind and kept you. We gave you clothes, food, shelter, an education, and we let you play that stupid sport with your so called friends. And this is how you repay us? With lies and disrespect? I will not tolerate this. No parent would. And your friends don't even like you. They will just take advantage of you. You're weak. Pathetic. Worthless. Now clean up this mess. Keep in mind what I told you and you and your father will finish this conversation later. Understand?" she questioned. "Yes, ma'am."

The worst part came when my dad came home. Before I knew it I was pinned to a wall, getting punched in the stomach."You don't deserve to be called my son. Anyone who gives my wife disrespect will hear from me, you worthless son of a bitch. You don't deserve to live. You never should have been born," he finished. He kneed me in the stomach, and with tears running down my face I began to think. What if they were right? Do my friends really hate me? Am I that worthless? As the blows kept coming I made up my mind, I never should have been born. I started to cough as he smacked me again. I felt liquid spray out of my mouth. If I had a guess I would say it was blood. My whole body ached more and more, but the punches didn't cease. I felt myself losing consciousness slowly. With one final slap across my face, he let me drop to the floor. As he walked away I heard one phrase that stayed with me all these years. "He was the biggest mistake ever made." I then lost consciousness.

I knew for a fact they couldn't have been happier to let me leave and move to California. It was what they had dreamed of for years. Because of them I can't express my true feeling without fear I'll get hurt. And even though the guys have been with me through thick and thin, I still have a small seed of doubt that my parents had been right about them. What if they were just stringing me along until they got the chance to hurt me, to embarrass me? No, they wouldn't do that. Kendall, Carlos, and Logan would never do that. They are my best friends.

I heard a soft snore from across the room. Carlos. He was the bundle of energy that kept me from sinking back down into my hidden depression. No matter what happens he always has a smile on his face. Whatever the world throws at him, he takes it and turns it around and somehow makes others see the bright side to it.

Then there is Kendall. Our leader. He holds us together. Whatever the obstacle, he can figure out a way through it. I have known him long enough, to know for a fact if anyone ever needed help, he would be the first one to reach them. He is also the best and most competitive hockey player I have ever met.

And finally Logan. He is the thinker. The smart one. He keeps us from killing ourselves and others. Though he is careful, he is not afraid to take a risk. He has the bigger heart than anyone else I know. He will forgive anyone no matter what they do. And though he can be shy around others, once you get to know him, it's impossible not to like him.

And then there's me. The normal one. I don't have any special talents, like my friends do. Sure I can sing, but then again who can't? I have been told I care too much about my appearance, but that is true and false. I seem to care about my appearance, but I really could care less. I guess I just needed a personality and here it is. I mean look in our group there is a jock, a genius, and a fun ball of energy. What more do they need? They certainly don't need a self absorbed pretty boy in the group, yet here I am. Maybe I really am worthless.

I turned back over on my back and once again stared at the ceiling, begging sleep to take me into oblivion. The only time I have relief from these constant thoughts is when I am sleeping, but of course it too wants to torture me with sleepless nights, and empty dreams. I shut my eyes tightly and listened to the strong winds howling through the tree tops and the steady pouring rain. I thought perhaps I could fall asleep by listing to the rain, but forty minutes later I figured I would try a new approach. I sat up and walked to the window, trying not to wake Carlos. I slowly opened the shade and carefully unlatched the window. I slid it open and stuck my head out. The cool rain felt relaxing as it ran down my face in streams. I sighed and stared out. "James, what are you doing up," Carlos asked yawning and rubbing his eyes. "Nothing, just go back to sleep," replied not even looking at him. "Okay, night," he said laying back down. "Night," I said quietly still staring out into space. Instead of going back to bed right away, I stayed with my head glued out the window. The rain was still falling, though not as hard as before. My hair was stuck to my face hanging in my eyes. I wiped my bangs out of my line vision and just stared out into the night. Praying that sleep would eventually be rewarded to me.