My brother and I were born in Beverly Hills, California. Our mother was a famous singer and actress who was basically extremely rich, and our father happened to be a director of a film she was working on, and they fell in love there, got married, and had Ryan and me as their twin children on May 5th.
Now, at age one until I was about three or four, I was known as the crier out of the two of us. You know me, the sort of bratty, bossy, crybaby type of girl? Yeah that was how it was. I cried over EVERYTHING. Seriously though, Ryan was always the tough one. He grew to be my protector. My guardian. No matter what, he was always there for me whenever I felt lost, unloved, uncared for, and al those painful emotions. I don't think he would ever let anything happen to me. I would be lost without Ryan.
I'm getting pretty off-subject aren't I? Well, let's travel to one of my memories of when I was one… Let me think…
.:FLASHBACK:.
I was sleeping in me and Ryan's double sized crib when the first thing of proof that Ryan truly cared for me happened. Since I always was the louder one, Ryan was the quieter one. He was sitting there, quiet as a mouse while I napped, thumb in my mouth and the whole shebang. Then I remember mommy and daddy yelling about…something. They were fighting as they always did.
"I know about Melissa, David!" Mommy screamed, steam almost coming out of her ears. Daddy looked like he was about to slap her upside the head.
"SHE IS NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS!" he retorted.
Mommy had tears running down her face. "I-I don't think we should b-be together anym-more, David," she whispered, pain lacing her words. "Just g-go." And he did. He packed up his things and left. He left without a last glance at his wife, and his year-old twins, almost oblivious to the whole situation. But we knew.
Well, Ryan knew. He knew from the moment he heard the heartbreaking sobs come from mommy's room. Ryan just sat and waited until I woke up from mommy's cries. Daddy had cheated on mommy. He never came back.
As for me, I didn't like being woken up by loud noises. They scared me. Mr. Bear made things better. Then I wasn't scared anymore. I blinked my eyes open and saw Ryan sitting there, looking so sad. I felt an empty space inside me and I knew somehow that daddy had left us. So, being as tired, cranky, and scared as I was at the moment, I did the only thing that I could think of. My face scrunched up and I started bawling.
Ryan looked up at me. Then he unconsciously started patting my arm, trying to calm me down, but failed. (A/N: Awwh!) Mommy's bed creaked and she groaned, coming into the room. She sniffled and wiped her eyes, not wanting us to see her weakness. But we already knew.
"Come here, pumpkin…" she said. She lifted me up and rubbed my back until my sobs became whimpers and sniffles. She set me down again. "Oh yes, how's my quiet angel?" she said to Ryan while picking him up. He cooed. I started crying again since I was no longer the center of attention. (A/N: Very Sharpay-ish, huh?) She immediately put Ryan down and scooped me up again. I continued to cry until the phone rang. Mommy jumped up. "Hold on a minute, sweetheart. Mommy will be right back, okay?" But I continued crying.
Then, Ryan lifted his hand and pointed to Mr. Bear on the diaper changing table. Mommy picked it up and handed it to me. I immediately stopped crying and lay back down, hugging the stuffed animal, and my thumb automatically made its way into my mouth again, beginning to doze off. Mommy looked at Ryan slyly, kissed him on the head, muttered "Thank you, Ry." and ran to the phone. Ryan crawled up next to me and soon we were both fast asleep.
.:END
OF FLASHBACK:.
See how much I needed Ryan? After dad left the family, mom became more and more stressed out by the minute. I don't know HOW she managed the whole next year after that. Being a single mother of TWINS for heck's sake isn't the easiest thing in the world, you know. Ryan and I missed dad, though. Who grows up without a father? We didn't even learn the words "dada, or daddy" existed until we were three. But that's another story. Soon, we turned two years old, and more difficulties for our mother were just around the corner.
