The school's heart breaker is my brother...

This chapter is dedicated to the awesome Sarah453 she is always the first to voter or comment and her support for this story had been amazing. 

Sam's POV:

Where the hell was Scott. 

I had tried calling him once already and he still hadn't picked up. God if he didn't pick up once I knew he never would but what could be more important than me and football????

We had this years final game coming up in the next month and Scott and I being the teams star players had made a vouch to practise everyday before school and after to make sure we were top quality.

But today Scott was no where to be seen.

On the drive to school I had felt mixed feeling about leaving Mia behind, I could still hear her loud scream as she called my name as I drove off into the horizon.

At fist I had enjoyed the feeling of power and revenge, she deserved everything she got.

She had cut a hole in the front of my shorts for god sake, and she knew they were my favourite and best shorts, the bitch.

I hated that smug little smile she had across her face as she tried not to laugh this morning in her room as I stood trying not to bear all.

I hated how she was able to play with my emotions like she were a fierce kitten tearing apart a ball of string. Clawing at my heart and dropping it once she got bored.

She could be really clever there was no doubting that but then again so could I.

She had better watch her back from now on.......I thought to my self still pissed off at her.

Mia and I hadn't always hated each other, in fact when we were little we were the very best of friends.

When I was about 4 and she had must turned 2 life was great we played constantly with each other and I was her hero.

We had the typical big brother little sister relationship, Mia worshipped the ground I walked on and it was impossible for me to do any wrong.

We would spend the hot summer day's hanging out by the pool and playing catch or tag.

Life was perfect for the both of us, or it was at least until our dad left.

My dad had never been the greatest with kids, I doubted he had ever really been one himself as his parents had both died when he was 5 and he had been moved from foster home to foster home all his life.

He loved my mum very much but he wasn't ready to settle down and have kids.

Mia and I were just an annoyance to him, a distraction from his life and work.  

To him we were his biggest mistakes.

He left us just  week after my sister's 2nd birthday. It wasn't a surprising event as the past week had been almost unbearable.

All day and night there had been constant fighting and arguing between my parents and once one night I had come down stairs to find my dad repeatedly punching my mother, her cries were weak and lifeless. 

He left the next day and we never saw him again.

I think a part of me died that day. 

It wasn't just that I had lost a father, a male figure in my life it was the fact that I was now expected to fill his shoes.

At the age of 4 I was expected to became the man of the house, look after my mum and sister while still trying to cope with every day things such as starting school and dealing with the school school bullies who loved nothing more than teasing the boy who came from the broken home.