Cinderella Man

Cinderella Man Chapter 10

So here's chapter 10!

I know I keep taking forever with this story, I'm sorry! But I do know where I'm going with it now so hopefully that should hurry me up

Please vote and comment, I love knowing what you think

Thank you :)

Enjoy <3

Sam's POV

The streets are cold tonight, colder than usual. I wrap the sleeping bag tighter around my body and dream of home.

My mum baking in the kitchen, the smell of freshly made cookies smacking me in the nose as I enter. She would tap my hand away as I would reach to take one, laughing and telling me I would spoil my dinner.

Dad walks in from work, briefcase in one hand, newspaper in the other. He kisses mum on the cheek while slipping his hand around her to steal a cookie from the side. Mum laughs and smacks his chest, handing one to me as well. Dad comes over to me and hugs me, picking me up and throwing me into the air before catching me. I laugh as the butterflies of excitement burst in my chest, before we all go into the living room to start a night of watching movies.

Memories like these are my fondest of home, before everything started going downhill. Soon after, dad lost his job and money became tight. We were never rich before but we certainly weren't poor. Suddenly we were watching what we buy, saving every last penny. Holidays became a thing of the past and birthday presents became simple and cheap.

But I never truly minded any of that, just as long as everyone was happy, but then the happiness disappeared soon after as well.

Mum and dad started arguing more and more, money always seeming to be the reason. Mum became depressed and dad spent his days sitting on the sofa watching day time TV and all I could do was sit back and watch as my family sank lower.

And then I went and messed things up even more.

I got expelled from school and that seemed to be the straw that broke their backs. All the built up frustration came exploding out of dad and before I knew it, I was being thrown out on the streets, left to fend for myself.

I waited for ages for them to change their mind, to come find me and tell me they wanted me to come home, but they never did. They left me, and I suddenly had a lot of growing up to do.

London seemed the best place to go, I didn't stick out like a sour thumb as much, I blended in better. Londoners have this amazing ability to ignore the things they don't want to see, like the homeless that litter their streets.

I soon realised that sitting by, looking depressed with a small hat for people to put change in wasn't the right way to survive. Like I said, Londoners are good at avoiding the obvious. So I started to use my guitar as more than just a way for me to get my feelings out, I started to use it as a way of surviving.

People were much more willing to give away their hard earned change if you were providing a service in exchange, my service being music.

People responded well to hearing me sing while they were on their lunch hour or on their way home. They seemed to like to stand there and listen to me sing.

I started to make more money, well more than I was making when I was sitting by doing nothing. I suddenly had enough to buy myself food, but never more than that. I was suddenly more grateful to all these people standing by and listening and I started to depend on them.

Without them, I don't eat.

The wind starts to pick up if that's even possible, and I soon realise sleep now is going to impossible. So I wrap the sleeping bag so tight that I can barely breathe and stare out at the amazing park that I call home.