Little Miss Perfect

Chapter 1 "I need to talk to you," I said into the phone. My mother didn't deserve any sort of formal greeting. Nor did she deserve any sort of gestures or words that showed my love -which was non-existent - for her. I expected her to be surprised that I was speaking to her. I usually kept quiet. "Not now, sweetie, we have a guest model and I'm doing interviews," she hissed. It was not surprising that during first time I voluntarily called her in years, she claimed that she was to busy to not see what her daughter wanted. "When can I talk to you?" I asked. "Sorry swe-" she started. "Don't call me sweetie," I snapped, "This is important. Have you forgotten that you have a daugher?" "I know very well that I have a daughter who barley stays in contact with me," she snapped, in a bitter tone. "You don't need me to mention to Dad about what you did, mother. And every f*****g minute I speak to you, I feel like killing you," I gritted my teeth, and fisted my hands so that my nails, which were bitten and jagged around the edges, dug into my palm. I was aware of how harsh I sounded and that my little sister was lurking somewhere listening to me, but I couldn't resist my anger towards her. It killed me everyday, which was why I avoided her like the plague. She sucked in her breath and swiftly moved on from the topic like she had done so many times before. Something terrible happens and all she ever does is look at the mess she had made and turn her back on it. "I can fit you in Saturday morning, " "Bye," I said and slammed the phone down using all my anger. I could have exploded any minute and that was the only way to avoid that. When it comes to her, all I ever did was get what I wanted and disappear. I knew that she would send a car for me to whatever place she had planned. As I walked away, I saw Stacey, standing in the corner of the landing just as I has predicted. I suddenly felt more aware of what I had said to that b***h. "Sandy, were you talking to mom?" she asked. I didn't like her calling that woman mom but she never met the real woman who almost- "Yeah," I replied. "I was talking to her" "Why?" she asked."You never speak to her" "I just did, alright? " I snapped suddenly. She had approached me at the wrong moment; just before I was about to blow my top. Her face turned red, which I suspected was from anger and embarrassment. She was 13; she had just entered her teens and always expected me to share everything personally as if she was not almost like a daughter to me. "Sorry, Stace," I apologized, watching her face carefully. It would hurt when I leave her. But she would cope. She had Brandon and Luke. Sometimes I felt jealous of her for living in a world where her mother isn't a self absorbed b***h, or where she hadn't lost her twin.But at other times I felt lucky around her; at least I was raised by parents, not an older sister who knew nothing about motherhood but only could try living up to the standards. I turned to go back into my bedroom but she followed me. "Don't go," she said. "Talk to me. You haven't spoken to me for ages," I sighed. "Where's Connor?" she asked. "He hasn't been around in a while" I broke then. The anger became a cloud of heartbreak, betrayal and loss. I missed him like mad. Even if he had almost killed my soul, he made me happy. There was no better way to describe it. I saw the world in a better, different light whenever he was around. Why did he have to turn out like that? Why did I fall for him? Stacey watched me, her eyes sad. How many thirteen year olds had to go through this every day. No parents to look after them, and a heartbroken sister. I sighed, just as my brother Luke walked in. "Mark's on the phone," he said coldly. My eldest brother, Mark, left us when he was 18. I guess it was normal going to college in another state, but he knew our family's condition and he could have tried to apply for a closer place. He never returned, visited or checked up on us, but I couldn't blame him for that. Now he was 20, with a job and a girlfriend. Luke had a grudge towards Mark, because when he left, it was just him; a sixteen year old schoolboy, and he had to look after me whilst I was becoming a teenager and Stacey and Brandon, the 8 year old twins. Our parents, the work obsessed freaks were barely ever home since the accident. Luke's hatred towards Mark had caused us to grow up with a coldness around him. But a few weeks ago, I had an idea. A plan. And I called Mark and we had a long talk. I finally understand him. "Santana?" I heard Mark's voice."Sandy?" "Hey," I said. "Have you been crying?" "I..he," I started, and tears started to pour out of my eyes. I stood up and walked into the garden to avoid Luke listening into the conversation. "Tell me what happened. Talk to me Sandy!" he urged. "Connor, he...all the time, he was after my money, Mark. Everything was a lie. It was never true!" I whispered. "That son of a b***h!" said Mark. He ranted on for a while, and after I asked him about his job and girlfriend. It was pleasing to hear about how much he'd turned his life around. But it was also hard. Hard that I still had to go through what he missed. "You broke up with Connor?" I heard a voice ask. I turned around to see Luke. I hesitated before nodding. "When were you planning on telling me?" he asked coldly. I stayed silent. "You tell him everything," shouted Luke. "We were close too once, have you forgotten? He was the one who left. He walked away, but I stayed! I looked after you and the twins, but when you need someone, you go running up to him!" "You're my little sis'. I love you too Santana. Why is it always him?" asked Luke, quietly. Tell him a voice said in my head. But I couldn't. He would be hurt, and he would hate me forever. I couldn't do what Mark did to him. But I had to. "I'm sorry, Luke," I said. "But I'm leaving"