Sammy(Samantha)'s POV...
They don't acknowlage me. I don't exist. Only John pays me any attention. Hi. My name is Samantha Bender, John Bender's younger sister. I am fifteen years old. Our father hits John, so does our mother. But she mostly just yells at him. I got a detention today for skipping school to get a smoke. I smoke sometimes. Ciggarattes. But not as much as John. I definantly don't do drugs like him. I had to get the detention slip signed. I knew John would get punished for my wrongdoing, so I decided I would have John forge the signiture.
I walked into the house. Father looked at me angrily, like he does whenever I get in trouble. He knew all right, but said nothing to me. I walked past him and upstairs to my room. John walked in the house. All hell broke loose.
"You're late,"Father yelled.
He's going to pay. Poor, innocent John is going to pay for my selfish mistake.
"So,"John said.
Father slapped him across the face. 'Don't hit him', I thought angrily,'You're mad at me, not him! Hit me!'
"Don't you talk back to me,"Father shouted,"You worthless trash!"
I ran into my room and slammed the door. I couldn't watch. I had two picture frames that I kept on my dresser. Simple Polaroid pictures, in a cheap wooden frame. One was of John, and one was of me. I picked up the one of John and looked at it closely. He looked so tough in it, wearing his jacket. It looked so much different than how I see him everyday, lying on the floor, crying, defeated. Why does he pay me any attention? He COULD just ignore me like our parents, but he DOESN'T.
There was a loud crash and more yelling. John was probably being thrown around. After a while, I wondered where John went. I'd figured he went to his room after a while. I was right. I found him sitting on his bed in his room, finishing off a cigarette. His room consists of an old mattress that he sleeps on, a small closet with some clothes, and some posters of girls and movies on his wall. His room was a little messier than mine, with crumpled paper and trash on the floor. My room looked better than his, and I hated it. I had a full bed, not just a mattress to sleep on. I had a closet with a bunch of clothes in it. I had a mini-fridge in my room. John bought the mini-fridge at a yard sale a long time ago. He buys food with money he gets from his job. We keep it in my room because my parents never go there. As I said, I do not exist.
He looked up at me.
"Hey sis,"He said, trying to look happy,"What's going on?"
"I'm sorry,"I said,"It was my fault."
He looked confused.
"Huh,"He asked.
"I got a detention,"I said,"That's why he hit you."
"Not your fault,"He said,"What'd you do anyways?"
"I got a detention,"I said,"On Saturday."
He smiled. I saw the pain in his eyes. He looked like he was trying to hold back tears. I knew how much he hated getting beat, and how much it scared him.
"Looks like you're in with me then,"He said.
"Why didn't he just hit me,"I wondered as I sat by him on his bed/mattress.
"DON'T say that,"He said,"DON'T EVER say that! You WOULD NOT want this sh*t!"
"Better than being ignored,"I said,"At least you exist!"
"Wish I didn't,"he said,"Sometimes...I wish I was never born..."
"No, don't say that,"I said,"If you weren't here, I don't know what I'd do."
John's POV..
It was true. I would've offed myself a long time ago or ran away if it weren't for Sammy. If I left, the bastard would start beating on her. I couldn't let that happen. Not to my baby sister, not to Sammy. I love her to death. I practically raised her since she was a baby. I would warn her as a toddler to be quiet so she wouldn't anger our father. I would hide her in my closet while Father was in one of his drunken rages. I was only three years old when she was born, but I knew how to survive in this f*ck*d up place. I knew from day one that I had to protect her.
She's the only person I show my feelings around. I try to be tough for her, but sometimes I can't help but break down and cry. This is one of those times. She squeezed me tightly in a hug.
"Hey,"I said,"Guess who else is coming to detention?"
"Who,"she asked.
"Andrew,"I said,"The wrestler. The one you have a crush on."
She blushed.
"I don't know what you're talking about,"She said, trying to keep a straight face
"Come on,"I joked,"I saw you gawking at him when we were at his house. You were all over him, flirting and such."
She punched my arm.
"Okay,"She said,"I admit it."
Flashback...
We'd went to Andrew's house a week ago. Sammy ran outside, warning me not to come in. She said that our father had a knife and was drunker than usual. She said he threw the knife and it barely missed her, hitting the wall. She was terrified, crying. I took her and ran to Andrew's house. It was the closest. Andrew let us in.
"Is that your new girlfriend, Bender,"Andrew asked,"Thought you were dating Claire. She's a little young, ain't she? She's cute though."
I pinned him against the wall. How DARE he insult my sister?
"Shut up about my sister,"I demanded.
"Sorry man,"He said,"Didn't even know you had a sister."
"Yeah, well,"Sammy said,and walked up to Andrew,"I'm kind of the black sheep of the family. They don't acknowledge me. Except for John here. Hi, my name is Samantha, Sammy for short. I'm a freshman in high school."
"I'm Andrew,"Andrew said,"Andy for short."
"You're the wrestler right,"she asked,"The senior?"
"That's right,"He said.
Sammy had that look on her face, and I knew she was already thinking about what to name their children.