Bits and Pieces {ON PAUSE}

Chapter 1- I'm Not One of Your Girlfriends

"Baby, please don't be like this. If you want I can-"

"Don't you 'baby' me, I'm not one of your girlfriends I'm your daughter, remember me? Your daughter?" My body was shaking with rage. How dare he show up here, at a funeral of all places. That man made me sick and I was sure as hell gonna make him know it. "You wanna know something father? You are pathetic, you leave us for 10 years and make it big, good for you. But then you have the nerve to show up my Mum's funeral expecting me to jump into your open arms?"

"I-" Dad began stuttering, surprised by my sudden outburst, I was always a quiet child. I glanced around the church, watching everyone's reaction. Let them look, I need to show my darling father how much I've missed him.

"Don't interrupt me! See you? Same as you were 10 years ago! And do you know whats funny, Daddy?" His wince caused me some sick pleasure, "Do you know whats funny? The payments, the child maintenance, stopped when you got rich. Why is that? Tired of paying for treatments for your autistic son? Yeah, he's autistic, bet you didn't know that either! What do you know about him? He was only 2 when you left! I cant even believe you,"

"Stop," Dad whispered, his shocked expression replaced by rage, "STOP THIS!! I am your FATHER and if I tell you you are coming to America with me, you are coming to America with me."

My face remained straight, staring into his eyes.

"Well then, I'll go with you if you tell me this. What is Nathan's middle name?" I asked, glancing over to my brother who was so blissfully oblivious of everything going on around him. Dad's silence made and cold, humourless smile appear on my lips. I knew he would never know that.

"Pathetic," I spat, grabbing Nathan's hand and walking away.

A few days later I was sitting in a social workers office, glaring at my father from across the room while he wound an elaborate, heart wrenching tale, proving he was as great a father as he said he was. And of course we just had to have a female social worker, she was putty in his hands. Staring deep into his eyes and grasping his hand at every opportunity. It was disgusting, but just when I thought it couldn't get and worse, dad winked at her giving her his so called 'irresistible lopsided grin'. I mean, smile properly, whats so great about a guy who can only be bothered to lift half his face?

"So?" I said, interrupting their silent flirting session, "Whats the verdict?" I was so lucky to have such a shallow social worker deciding where I would spend the rest of my life.

"Well sweetie, I think your dad's a fit parent and, as your last living parent, has full custody over you and Nathan. Plus, America is lovely, you'll love it there and-" I raised my hand, silencing her.

"I think I've heard enough, excuse me for a moment," I began walking to the door, "Oh, and Dad? Nathan's middle name is Vincent. Who'd of thought someone as self centred as you could forget their own name?"

And with that, I was gone.

Mum was in a coma for 2 weeks. Two long weeks I spent caring for my brother, checking on her everyday. They said she would live, they said it was certain and it was a medically induced coma. They ruined my trust in people.

The day she died I was trying to feed Nathan. I remember it all to well and I've done some bad things to make myself forget. I've drank and made myself sick. I drank until I couldn't remember my own name. But it was never permanent, the memories came swimming back the next morning, making me feel as if she just died. I gave up after a few days when Nathan got the cold. I still haven't forgiven myself for leaving him like that. We don't live in the best neighbourhood, thanks to dad. When he was still giving us payments we lived an a nice house in North London. Everything was great until his first movie, his career skyrocketed from then. And the benefit payments from him stopped.

Vincent Montgomery, the name was everywhere. The worst thing was hearing girls in my school talking about him, telling each other about how "He's so hot" and that they were married to him. I have my dad's eyes and plump lips but I mainly look like my mum. I had the same coffee coloured skin and unruly but beautiful curly hair. Yeah, I do think I'm pretty. I always hate it when people who know they're pretty call themselves ugly. I was tall like my mum with prominent curves.

I've had boys check me out for my looks but nobody seems to like my attitude much. I've never minded much though. I enjoy my own company more that anyone else's. I guess Nathan and I are similar in that way. He is the spitting image of my dad and looks more like him everyday.

Nathan is only 12 and is the reason I haven't given up completely. Mum and I were close. To the untrained eye, anyone would think he hadn't noticed mum wasn't here but I have been caring for him for years. He doesn't talk much but I can see in the way he looks around confusedly sometimes and the sad look in his eyes he knows what happened. He can't express himself and it breaks my heart to see his face when he is clearly missing her.

I didn't hate my dad, not really. I just held a grudge. And to be truthful, I'm scared to go and live in L.A with him. I'm only 15 and he's not going to be home. He's known to be a 'playboy' but I just think he has no respect for women. I'm scared because I'm going to be looking after Nathan by myself.

Like I said, I'm 15, I'm supposed to be having sleepovers and talking about boys. Not turning into a full time nanny. I'm supposed to be not doing school work because I don't want to, not because I'm to tired to think.

I don't want to live like that.