Zebra Spots - Intro?

I might be putting up a story I've started. It is generally untitled, but I'm nicknaming it Zebra Spots for now. It's about a girl named Sophie who's sixteen and has to take care of her whole family, including her baby sister Isabella, because she has an apathetic chain-smoking father and an alcoholic, irresponsible mother. She is doing an alright job of holding her life together, but in the beginning of summer, it all begins to fall apart. Sophie has to take some time for herself, and along the way meets someone who makes her realize life isn't as bad as she thinks.

Here is an excerpt from chapter one:

“Are you ready to go?” I asked. When she nodded, I hoisted her onto my hip, waved goodbye to the mothers, and stepped out the front door. I knew that there was a lot wrong with this picture. First of all, I was sixteen- Isabella was my younger sister. If asked, I could have named every little girl and matched her up with her parent at that party. I made small talk with the mothers as if I was one of them, and they were well used to me. In fact, if my own mother had showed up to retrieve Isabella from the party, she would have been interrogated.

                After weaving back through the shiny new cars once again to get to my mom’s I strapped Isabella in the back seat and pulled out of the driveway. “Is mama gonna be home?” she asked me almost immediately.

                “I don’t know, sweetie,” I told her. I really wasn’t sure if mom was going to stay home or go out today to honor her “It’s five o’clock somewhere” motto. I pictured her passed out on the couch with an empty bottle of Miller Light in her hand, a few more spread around her. It was likely, but to answer Isabella’s question, if that’s where she was, did that count as being home? I sure didn’t think so.

                “What ‘bout dad?” It often brought me close to tears, the way she didn’t even call her own father “dada” or “daddy” at age three, but I really couldn’t blame her.

                “No, Izzy, he’s working today.” My dad worked at a factory that packaged cigarettes. He didn’t get any kind of employee discount, not that that stopped him.

                “Guess what I got, Sophie!” she changed topic almost immediately.

                “What did you get?” I asked, braking at a stop sign.

                “A ring, and a necklace, and a bracelet…” I turned before accelerating again to see she was already wearing all of the jewelry she had mentioned. As she continued to list off party favors she’d received and games she’d played, I focused on the road, my sister’s voice being the only thing that kept me from straining myself. As I drove down the same road I did just about every day, I observed as the houses grew smaller, the parked cars lost their shine, the green grass faded to brown. Just like every time I made this transition, I gazed around and absorbed my surroundings as I emerged from the real world and entered my own.

                When I made it just about as far away from the Bates’ home as you could get, I pulled into a side street, then turned into my own driveway. “… and I got to eat a PINK cupcake with PURPLE sprinkles!” Isabella finished as I unbuckled her from the backseat, holding her hand for the five steps we took to get into my front door. The drive was over, meaning the transition was complete: I’d left behind the suburban homes, the shiny cars, the designer names, for what I had grown up with.

So would you read this? Should I bother putting it up? Thanks (: