Thanks to Lissical for my first review! YAY ME! P
Disclaimer: I don't own it.
On our second birthday, I'd say that things became harder for everybody. Especially our mom. Ryan, being the kind of clumsy, careless little buy that he was, used to go out into the yard and pick all of mom's good flowers and hand them to her when she seemed sad. I think mom was going to explode with anger because she admired her garden, and Ryan was KILLING HER PLANTS. She always faked a smile and thanked him anyways because she knew he was only doing that because he cared. This went on until there was dirt tracked on the cement and all the flowers died. Then she told Ryan not to pick the flowers anymore since she was a "very happy camper". Ryan believed her.
I usually ignored them. I was busy scribbling pictures with crayons and I didn't really care what Ryan was up to. I was horribly spoiled already. My room was jammed with toys and books and pillows—anything I wanted. Mom tried to make us happy, trying to in the wrong ways, just because she didn't want her only kids to feel the way she did. I was preoccupied with all the things I could get, that I didn't learn to share things, and I didn't have good manners, and I only cared about myself, not Ryan…yet. I was a spoiled rotten toddler, what else could I do?
My brother didn't have much. That was because he never asked for anything, unlike me. I would pound my fists on the handle of shopping carts when I saw something I wanted. Mom always would buy it for me. Ryan would just look around. It seemed like he wanted something, like a dump truck on a shelf, but he never had a fit about wanting mom to buy it for him. He would just glance at mom's face while I had my hissy fits, and toddle past the toy.
.:FLASHBACK:.
I was jumping up and down on Ryan and my king sized bed. He was practicing the alphabet with mommy. I was singing songs I learned from my favorite educational show, Barney.
"I..wuv you!..You wuv…me!...We a hap-py…fam…awe!" My unbelievably high pitched voice sounded around the room and I gasped for air in between words. Finally, I flopped down again because I forgot the words to the rest of the song. I frowned. So I went out of the room and into the kitchen where mommy and Ryan were. They were eating cereal together.
'Why am I not with them?' My mind screamed. Ryan was hogging mommy all to himself! Maybe mommy hated Sharpay. Maybe she wanted her to go far, far away! "I WANT CER'AL TOO!" I screeched. "I…" I stomped my foot. "WANT…" I stomped again. "IT!" I stomped one last time. Boy, was I one heck of a kid. Then a lump rose in my throat and I thrust myself onto the ground and kicked my feet. The waterworks came and I kept on pounding my fists. Mommy carried me into my room for a time out. I didn't like time outs. I sobbed for a very long time. I didn't know how long because I woke up two hours later in my bed. I yawned and rubbed my eyes with the hand that wasn't in my mouth.
"Mommy…?" I called. No one answered. Not even Ryan. I tried again, a little louder this time. "Mommy!" Silence. I grabbed Mr. Bear from under my blanket and hugged him. My lower lip started to tremble. 'Where is she?' "MOMMY?" I yelled as loud as I could, but nobody came. The sensation of being alone and scared swept over me. You know what I did, right? The only thing I felt that I needed to do? Yes. That.
After sobbing as loud as I could, Ryan came into the room, rubbing his eyes too. I looked up and saw him.
"S'arpay?" he asked me. My cries were subsiding and I sniffled. "What's w'ong?"
I couldn't talk yet. I tried to, but the only sounds I made were choked cries and more sniffles. Ryan climbed onto the bed next to me.
"Are you 'kay?" He asked again. Then he hugged me.
"W-whewe mom-my g-go?" I managed to blurt out.
Ryan smiled. "Outside." He kissed me on the cheek. (A/N: squees Can't you see Little Ryan doing this?) "Come see." Then he grabbed my hand and he led me out to the garden where mommy was. She was planting new flowers where Ryan had pulled them out of the ground earlier. I smiled, not letting go of his hand yet, and he didn't let go of mine.
.:END OF FLASHBACK:.
Everything was fine after that, despite my bratty habits. A few months later, when we were two and a half, Ryan, unbelievably was showing signs of being ready for potty training. Before me. Mom made such a big deal out of it, praising him and stuff. I was jealous. Very jealous. I wanted mom to spend time with me too.
.:FLASHBACK:.
Mommy was spending so much time with Ryan in the bathroom, and never ever had time to read or play with Sharpay. I felt lonely because mommy loved Ryan more than me, or so I believed then. I mean, really! Ryan got to wear pull-ups and all I had were stupid diapers! I had various tantrums because of it.
"Very good, Ryan!" I heard mommy say from the bathroom. Then I heard the potty flush.
"Meanie…" I muttered under my breath. When Ryan came back, he had a smug smile on his face, like he was proud of himself or something. He looked like he was going to rub the fact that he was potty trained and I wasn't in my face. So I hit him as hard as I could. He fell down and started crying. I knew I was in "Big trouble, young lady", so I ran and hid under my bed.
Mommy rushed over to Ryan. "What's wrong, cupcake?" She wiped his tears away.
"S'arpay hitted me!" he said. Mommy found me, I started crying too, because mommy looked mad.
"I SAWII MOMMY! I SAWII WYAN!" I don't really remember what happened after that.
.:END OF FLASHBACK:.
Anyways, I refused to be potty trained. The Evans family is stubborn. I inherited that. Mom began to worry that I wasn't going to be able to be in the same Preschool as Ryan if I wasn't trained by September next year. What would I do without Ryan if we went to separate Preschools as him? Our third birthday came, and I still wasn't potty trained. September was right around the corner…
Will Ryan and Sharpay get into the same Preschools? DUN DUN DUN...
