Six years later…

Um, well, my name's Amila, or just Ami for short. I'm fifteen and an only child. Remember Ryoko Sohma? She's my mother. Can you guess who my father is? Bet you can't. I live with both my mom and dad in Brooklyn, New York. I know it's kinda far from the rest of the Sohmas, but my mom's a model and my dad's in a band. I have a grandma and grandpa from my dad's side who watch me when they're gone and they spoil me to death. Because of my parent's jobs, I barely get to see them, but they're always home for the summer when school's over for me.

Now let's go back to when I was four years old.

"Is there anything you want me to get you while I'm away?" my dad asked picking me up and setting me on the edge of the bed. He was going away on another tour tomorrow morning.

"How 'bout you just stay home with me and mom?" Dad frowned at my answer. "Then can I go with you?"

"I promise that you can come with me once you're older." He said as his smile returned to his face. "Now is there anything that daddy can buy for you?"

"A guitar!"

"You gonna be a rock star like daddy?"

My attention ignored him and turned towards Mom who was now walking out of their closet with two suitcases.

"Don't forget to pack." She said before tossing him a suitcase.

"What an arm!" he laughed as it collided with his chest. Dad then noticed the second suitcase in her hand. "You leaving somewhere?"

"I have to go back home for a bit…"

"You love him more than me! I'm right aren't I?" someone yelled causing me to wake up.

I rubbed her tired eyes as she slid out of her parent's bed. I only slept there when my parents were home. I have my own bed in my own bedroom. "Mom? Dad?" I called softly for I noticed they were both gone.

"I stayed with you even though I know I can't hug you or even Amila- my own kid!"

I walked out into the hallway where the yelling seemed to get louder.

"Ryoko, I love you!" It was Dad yelling.

"I love you too." That was my Mom.

"Then why are you going back to him?"

"It's not like that! His wife just died and needs some help…"

"Have you even thought about Amila? Who's going to watch her? My parents are on vacation. She-" Dad then noticed me standing there, watching them.

"Amila." My Mom quickly put a smile on.

Dad just smiled and walked over to me. "Hey Ami. Have a bad dream?"

I nodded even though it was lying. He picked me up with one arm and took my mom's hand with his free hand walking us back to the bedroom.

The begging part is just when Amila was young. She'll be fifteen throughout the rest of the story. Tell me what you thought of it or if I should even continue.