Hi guys, I'm so sorry it took over a year to update, but I just got caught up in the hell that is school, forgive me? I promise this one will be longer and hopefully fulfilling. Enjoy peeps.

Disclaimer: I do NOT own High School Musical or any of it's characters or plotline, I only own my plotline and my OCs

(Sharpay's POV)

Okay Shar, you can do this, it's only calculus, just some numbers, no match for the awesomeness that is you. Except I don't understand a one single bloody problem on the page, damn you derivatives, and Mr. Parker, my horrible calculus teacher. I swear, he doesn't even understand what he's talking about. Ah, screw it I'll get Kelsi's help with it later. I look up from where I'm sitting in the stands just in time to see the end of a particularly difficult routine my brother's cheerleading squad is doing, Ry's like ten feet in the air doing a vertical split on the tippy top of a human pyramid. Sometimes I swear he's going to give me a heart attack, if he falls… that's not going to be good. At all. And now the head honcho coach is yelling at them, it's like watching Glee, the coaches even look similar. I tune them out, now trying to focus on writing a poem for my creative writing class. This is normally so easy for me, I'm an amazing writer, if I do say so myself. But right now, all I can think about is Ry's slip up and my 'kidnapping'.What are they going to do? I really hope they don't call the police, or worse try to confront our father. The thought sends shivers down my spine.

The shit that is my life started going downhill when we were six, mommy died in a car crash, she was coming to pick us up from our last day of Kindergarten. Some idiot ran a red light and t boned her side of the car. She died instantly. At first the rest of my family were in shock, disbelief. Ryan and I blamed ourselves, still do sometimes, father wasn't any help in that department. He blamed us too, and he made sure we knew that, every day.

The abuse, I know it's abuse now, it started about a year after mom's death, before that he just ignored us, left us alone. Neglect, learned that in seventh grade health. Then started the cutting remarks and insults, emotional abuse, seventh grade health too. Then it escalated in third grade, the first time he hit Ryan was when he came home late from school on a Friday. He was hanging out playing baseball with some guys in our class. When Ryan got home around five instead of three like we were supposed to, dad was already drunk, and livid, he punched Ryan, right in the stomach. Ryan yelled out in pain and surprise and fell to the ground. I was watching on the stairs, but when he kicked Ryan's chest, I lost it and I jumped from four steps up onto dad's back, pounding my little fists onto his back, scratching and biting his neck. I only distracted him for a moment, the moment Ryan needed to get away. Father grabbed my right wrist in a bruising grasp, and threw me off of him, I hit the ground hard, my wrist throbbing, he leaned over me, leering, he said, "Don't ever interfere like that again you little bitch, or else you'll regret it." He slapped me across the face and walked into the den, just watching the game like nothing ever happened. His insults were nothing new, the threats, nothing new, bruising grasps, nothing new, but the way he beat Ryan, that was new and terrifying.

For awhile the beatings only happened when father was drunk on weekends, and Ryan was the usual target, unless I tried to help my twin. Ry never wanted me to help, he hated seeing me hurt. I guess dad found more pleasure in verbally and mentally messing with my mind, self-confidence, and emotions than beating on me.

That was also the year we befriended Kelsi, she had been helping Ryan with his homework before school. I'll admit she was pretty cool, in a nerdy, geeky, shy kind of way. I liked her, she's still one of my closest friends, even if no one else can tell. She noticed, the only one to notice, Ryan's bruises, she noticed my depression, anxiety, and fears. She told her Dad, Tony, he runs an Italian Bakery downtown, his pastries are literally like heaven.

So Tony called Child Protective Services, we were taken into foster care, an extremely loving elderly couple, whose kids were grown. I wanted to stay so bad, I hated it at home, I hated father, I hated his voice that only spit acid around me and my older twin. The thing was, to everyone else he was the charismatic businessman. There really wasn't enough evidence without our testimonies or something, but father, he threatened us, told us he'd hurt Kelsi and her father Tony for ratting him out. I was scared, and I believed him, every one of his threats he followed up on. So we didn't and he somehow got the State to believe that he was fit to be our father. For the next few months, home was back to what it was after mom died, neglect, but this time we were older. We knew how to take care of ourselves and each other. This only lasted a few months before he went back to his old ways, but things were better now. We had Tony and Kelsi, they tried to help us any way they could. I will always be thankful for that. The good thing is we only have to stay with him for two more years. Then we're legal adults and then we're getting out of here.

"Shar! Earth to Sharpay." Unstocking my head from memory lane, I see Ry waving a hand in front of my face. Laughing I swat it away.

"What?" I ask with laughter in my voice.

"Practice is over. Time to go." I glance at my watch, 5:34pm, huh. Wonder where all the time went.

"Hey don't you have work tonight?"

"Yeah, 6-8, come on lets go, before I'm late and Carol has my head on a silver platter!" He dramatically flails about with mock horror.

"You're such a theater geek." I tease him.

"Takes one to know one." Ry banters right back.

"Race you to the car. 1… GO!" I take off running.

"No fair!" Ryan yells at my running back, as he easily catches up to me, give me a break, I'm in high heels.

We hop into the car and head to Carol's Dance Studio.

BREAKLINE!

"Okay one more time from the top! 5, 6, 7, 8!" Ryan calls out to his itsy, bitsy, teeny, weeny, eight year old dance students from the front of the studio lined with mirrors. The twenty girls and one lone boy all in baggy black sweat pants and assorted colored T-shirts, attempt Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes hip hop version. It's actually pretty cool, clean hip hop music for kids and fun to dance to.

Ugh, Sharpay you need to focus, it doesn't matter how boring The Grapes of Wrath is you still need to read it and get an A on the test. Father expects us to have impeccable grades, and I need them to get into a good college and away from father. What I really don't get is why Steinbeck needed three pages to describe a turtle crossing the road, that doesn't make any sense.

"Hey Sharpay! What are you doing here? " I startle and look over to the voice addressing me, it's Tayler, with Gabriela. Since when did they take dance classes?

"Hi. Ryan works here, I'm just finishing up some homework." I raise my book and pointedly start reading it again, hoping they get the hint and go put on their jazz shoes, or whatever, elsewhere. I don't want to talk to them, especially if they're gonna try to convince me speak up against my father, or something equally suicidal.

Apparently they're not well versed in body language because they take a seat on either side of me jibbering on about the next scholastic decathlon meet or something just as boring. Sighing, I tune them out and delve back into Steinbeck's portrayal of the Great Depression and the Dust Bowl, yay.

About an hour later, "Shar-Shar! Did ya see me! Did ya see me!" Gracie says, she's Rachel's cute little daughter, she's tall for her age, with curly black hair, dark skin, and dark eyes. She comes barreling out of Ryan's studio. Gracie is actually a talented dancer, and she loves Ryan. She's like our little sister, we make sure she's never at our house when father's home.

"Yeah, kiddo you were amazing! I loved your shoulder shimmies, you've been working on them haven't you." I pull her into a sisterly hug as she's jumping up and down vibrating with energy, even after an hour and a half of dancing. I feel sorry for Rachel and her husband Julio. Well, speak of the Devil and he shall appear.

"Papa!" Gracie springs into her papa's arms.

"Hey Babygirl!" Julio greets his daughter tickling her sides.

"Daddy stop it! I'm not a baby!" Gracie shrieks with laughter.

Julio turns to me, "Hi Sharpay, how're you and your brother doing," he gives me a pointed look with his dark eyes that match his daughter's, we both know what he's really asking. Truthfully things are getting a little more violent than usual back home, father gets more drunk, more often than he has before, but we can handle it.

"We're fine Julio, we're swamped with homework and school stuff, but we're okay." I put on my mask and smile, hoping he won't see straight through it anyway.

"If you ever need a place to stay, our doors are always open for you and Ryan, never hesitate to ask."

Gracie wiggles around in Julio's arms, her grin a mile wide, "Yeah we can have a sleepover! We can braid each other's hair and Ryan can tell us his ghost stories and we can watch movies all night long!"

I smile again, a real smile this time, "Maybe some other time Gracie, Ryan and I have a lot of homework to finish up tonight." She crosses her arms, looks down at the ground and pouts.

"Okay," she agrees sadly. I ruffle her hair, and hug her and Julio one last time before they walk out the door.

Just then Ryan walks slowly out of the studio, he gives me a tired smile before plopping down on the seat next to mine, He sighs, "Long day?" I ask.

"Yeah, who knew little kids had so much energy." He joked, standing up and grabbing his coat along with mine, "Come on Sharpay, we better get home before father does." Ryan said grimly trying to smile, but it looked more like a grimace.

I nodded, stood up, slung my backpack onto my shoulder, and followed Ry out to my car. I threw my backpack into the back seat and climbed into the driver's. Once we were on the road home Ryan popped the Grease soundtrack into the CD player, we sang along to the track adding in our own harmonies and artistic flare. For a moment I could forget where the winding road, filled with huge mansions with long gaps of greenery and gardens between them, was leading us to. The time flew by too fast and soon we were home. I had hoped father hadn't come home yet, but the lights were on and we knew Rachel and Riley both had the night off. I contemplated turning around and heading somewhere else, but when we would have finally decided to head back home our punishment would have been worse tenfold.

I shared a look with my twin, he reached over and squeezed my hand reassuringly. As one we stepped out of my bright pink convertible, our doors shutting in tandem. Ryan walked ahead of me slowly, his steps careful, his back rigid and shoulders tensed. I too took a deep breath and prepared myself for the worst.

We walked into our house, not home, a home is somewhere you feel safe and protected, neither of us have felt like that here in a very long time. At first there was no sign of father in the house, neither of us let down our guard and we were right to. Clump! Clang! Smash! Our father entered the entryway from the Den, he was unsteady on his feet, eyes bloodshot, his pudgy face bright red, and gleaming with sweat. He was drunk, he was always drunk nowadays.

"Well, well, well, look who finally 'cided ta com 'ome. You're late 'gain." He said, slurring his words at the end. The thing was we weren't late, curfew this week was 9, and it was only 8:30, but father likes to change rules on us like that, just to give him an excuse for punishment.

We knew better than to argue, we never won, and it always ended with more pain. But I was tired, and no I wasn't sleepy, I was tired like Rosa Parks was all those years ago. I was tired of treading on eggshells anytime I was around our father. I was tired of trying to anticipate what kind of mood he was in. I was tired of hiding the bruises, I was tired of making sure Ryan didn't have a concussion, or internal injuries. I was tired of being too afraid to sleep. I was tired of staying up all night watching Ryan's chest rise and fall as he slept, making sure he was still alive. I was tired of hearing my twin scream and not being able to do a thing about it. I was tired of lying to my friends and teachers. I was tired of looking in the mirror and desperately trying ignore my father's words and believe Ryan when he told me I was a beautiful, strong, intelligent woman. I was tired, just like I was in third grade when I told Kelsi, and fifth grade when I told Mrs. Bailey, I miss her, and I feel guilty, because it was my fault she disappeared.

I wanted to grab Ryan and drive away from everything, go on the run and never come back here. I just didn't want to be afraid of my own father, the one person who was supposed to love me no matter what. I didn't want to be afraid in my own house, the one place I was supposed to feel safe and protected.

So instead of keeping my head down and taking his acidic words, of watching Ryan take the hits, I stood my ground, like I haven't done in years, "No, we are not late, curfew is 9 and right now it's only 8:30." I crossed my arms across my chest and took a step in front of Ryan, ignoring my twin's silent protests, he wasn't going to take the hits tonight, he was already hurt from last night. I wasn't going to let him get more hurt.

Father's face turned so red it was almost purple, his eyes nothing more than beady little slits, his gigantic hand tightened around the bottle of vodka. If I wasn't 100% certain of the oncoming pain, I would have laughed at the almost cartoon like expression on his face, I could practically see the smoke billowing out of his ears.

Father spluttered, trying to say something, but all that came out was his disgusting spit, phlegm, and reeking odor of alcohol. So he threw his bottle directly at my head. I threw myself behind the bookcase beside the door, dragging Ryan behind me. The bottle missed both of us and shattered the glass window next to the door. I let out an involuntary scream. But I hoped one of the neighbors heard the glass break or my screams. I didn't have much hope though, in all the years of father's beatings, nobody, except Kelsi and her dad, Rachel and her family and riley, has helped us much before. I guess the neighbors either don't hears us or they do and turn out the light.

Things were mysteriously silent for a few agonizing seconds. Then came father's roar of outrage as he stomped toward us, he flug our only object of protection across the room like in was made of feathers. Ryan tried to put himself in front of me, but I wouldn't let him, he was still healing from the last beating, and I couldn't stand to see him in such pain again. So I pushed myself in front of Ryan, carefully looking away from his pained, panicked eyes. I closed my eyes and braced myself for the pain.

(Narrator's POV)

"Hey Dad, can we talk for a second?" Chad asked his dad as he knocked lightly on the open door to his dad's office.

Kyle Danforth looked up from his laptop and looked at his son over his glasses, "What's up Chad?"

Chad came into the room and sat down on one of the comfy chairs on the opposite side of his dad's desk. "Dad, you know the Evans twins right?"

Dr. Danforth frowned and took off his glasses, "Yeah, the ones who're in all the school plays right?"

"Yeah, um, I think they're in trouble." Chad says as he leans against the doorstop, his eyes darting around, never landing on his Dad's face. They had tried to think of a way to get the Evans twins to turn in their dad but nothing that would actually work came to mind, so maybe my Dad can help, he's a doctor, so he's supposed to help people like Ryan and Sharpay.

Dr. Danforth takes his glasses off and gazes at his son in concern, "What kind of trouble son?"

Chad takes a deep breath and steals his courage before he wimps out, "I think they're Dad is hurting them. Today in gym Ryan had brusies on his arms and legs, a lot of them dad and Sharpay had a hand shaped bruise on her wrist. They both got really defencive when we asked them about it. I just...I don't know what to do Dad." Chad finishes explaining his hands running through his afro, with a nervous and worried look in his eyes.

Dr. Danforth's eyes widen at the possibility and at his son's uncharacteristic behavior, "Are you absolutely sure about this, Chad? It's a very serious actuation."

"Yeah dad I'm positive." Chad said as he leaned forward in his chair staring desperately at his dad, hoping he'd believe him and do something to help the twins. Chad wasn't really a big fan of the twins, sure they were talented and such but there had always been something artificial about them. Now he knew that it was because they were trying to hide what was happening at home.

Dr. Danforth took off his glasses, closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose as he took in his son's words, it didn't seem likely, Jason Evans is a well respected business man, but if it was true and he did nothing to stop it, he would never forgive himself and neither would his son. "Okay, I'll call the proper authorities and do what we can to help Ryan and Sharpay tonight, don't worry about it son, they'll be okay." Dr. Danforth said as he put his glasses back on and picked up the phone.

Chad smiled in relief, things were going to be okay now, "Thanks dad." he said as he got up and walked toward the door.

"No, thank you for telling me, it was the right thing to do." Dr. Danforth said just before someone picked up on the other line, "Hello, this is Doctor Kyle Danforth, I'm calling to report…"

Chad smiled as he walked out of the room and texted the others that his dad was going to help the twins and things were going to be okay again.

(Ryan's POV)

I stared in abject horror as dad pounded mercilessly on Shar, I was paralyzed with fear and dread. What if this was it? What if this time he wouldn't stop? What if he'd kill us tonight. I don't want that to happen. I don't want to die tonight. I can't let this be the end. With those thoughts circling my brain in a nonstop pattern of horror I tried to get in between them, stop this madness, but I was still hurt and weak from last night. Dad paused for a second on Shar as he turned his beady red eyes toward me, There was nothing in those eyes, nothing that was once warm and kind. I hated him then, I've always hated him, but there was always a slowly dying hope that just maybe things wouldn't always be like this, that we could be a family once again, like the one I barely remember. Dad stepped away from Shar and gripped my arm so harm I thought that he would crush it into dust, He leered in my face spit something I couldn't understand and threw me into the wall, Hard. My head bounced off the wall with an audible crunch and I crumpled to the ground my head throbbing as I slowly lost consciousness. The last thing I saw was the massive mass of dad looming over my sister. I wanted to get up, I wanted to protect her, but I couldn't move. I tried to fight the darkness as it slowly enveloped my brain, I didn't want to leave my sister on her own. My body disagreed though and slowly my body and brain both fell into the gaping darkness, both freeing and terrifying.

(Chad's POV)

We walked into school the next day, Taylor and I, we gathered with Troy, Gabby, Kelsi, Zeke, and Jason where the Twins lockers stood, one bright pink the other a light blue.

As the warning bell rang we started getting worried. Why weren't they here yet? Normally they beat everyone to school, rehearsing,or in Ryan's case studying with Kelsi before school.

"Why aren't they here yet?" Troy asked, for all her obsessing over him, he actually cared about Sharpay, and Ryan, they're becoming good friends. I had a tight knot in the pit of my stomach, what if my dad couldn't get them help? Or what if something happened before help could get there? I tried to stop these thoughts, but they wouldn't leave me alone.

"We should get to homeroom, maybe they're just running late." Gabby said with forced hopefulness.

We walked into Miss. Darbus's room just after the bell rang, I expected Miss. Darbus to go on some long shivel of turning me into a pocket watch, or some other nonsense. Instead she didn't notice us, hell I don't think she could focus on anything, she was talking to a woman with a Detective's badge visible on her hip.

"Miss Darbus? What's going on?" Kelsi asked from her seat next to the door. Miss Darbus looked at Kelsi before bursting into tears catching everyone off guard, it wasn't her atrocious fake crying either it was a horrible, all too real, emotion filled sobbing like her great great grand daughter just died.

"Miss Darbus?" I asked leaning forward on my desk.

Before I could say anything else though, which was good because I didn't know what I was going to say anyway, the Detective said, " Hello, I'm Detective Jessica Finefield."

Whoa, what was going on, I glance to the back of the room where Ryan's and Sharpay's empty desks stand out prominently. I had a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach, a horrible idea formed in my mind. I tried to make myself believe that this wasn't happening, that I was on the court with my team, nothing going through my brain, only the ball bouncing up and down, up and down, boom, boom, boom. That's all I could hear, the pounding of my heart, the blood rushing in my ears, as we waited with bated breath for the Detective's words.

"Last night Ryan and Sharpay Evans were found brutally beaten in their home, both are now in the hospital, there is no word yet on their condition, If anyone has any information on who may have attacked them, please come forward, the police are conducting interviews in the gym office all day, also Councillors will be available if anyone needs it.

Crap, Shit, Shit, Shit! If only we had done something earlier, if only I had told my dad earlier, maybe they would be ok now. The room was alight with whispers and confusion. The Detective thanked us for our cooperation and walked out, presumably to tell another class the same thing she told us.

I looked over at the rest of my friends each had the same worried and scared expression on their faces. I knew what we had to do now we had to tell the police what we think happened, what we think their dad did to them.

After homeroom was finished we decided that not all of us needed to talk to the police. Since I was the only one who had a study hall first period I talked to the police.

I told them everything, about the bruises on Ryan's arms and legs during gym. About the bruises on Sharpay's wrists. I told them how we suspected their father. Kelsi talked to the police as well and told them all she knew about the twins home life. The school made all of the twins friends talk to a Councillor, which admittedly helped a little.

(Narrator's POV)

After school all of the twins friends went to the hospital and saw them. Ryan was awake and we talked to him until the nurse made us leave so he could rest. Sharpay… Sharpay didn't wake up for a long time, three months to be exact, three months of torture and guilt for Ryan. He blamed himself, which was totally ridiculous since he couldn't have controlled any of that. Thankfully the twins had an Uncle, Joey, he had been off backpacking in Europe when the hospital called and he rushed back to the states. their Uncle Joey had no idea what was happening in the Evans' home otherwise he'd have gotten them out of there a long time ago. Anyway Joey took Ryan in to his home, first he had to get a home here, it was considerably smaller than the Evans' old mansion, but for Ryan and later Sharpay it felt more like home than the mansion ever had. Joey, Ryan, and all of their friends took turns visiting and talking to Sharpay while she was still in the hospital. When she finally woke up it was the happiest day Ryan could ever remember. Mr. Evans was found, apprehended, tried and convicted of repeated child abuse and was found guilty of murder in the 1st degree. He confessed to killing Mrs. Bailey.

The road to recovery was long and hard both mentally and physically for both the twins, but with the help of Joey, Rachel and Riley who had to find new jobs and their families, and all of the twins friends they made full recoveries. Ryan enjoyed finally being able to wear short sleeves and shorts, not having to worry about covering up injuries. Sharpay was finally rid of all the verbal and emotional cut downs and insults. They were both finally able to feel safe and loved in their own home, like everyone should be able to. They were finally able to smash the masks and let the true, happy Ryan and Sharpay free.

Ok guys, that's it, done, finally. I know I should have had this done months ago, but honestly I lost interest in the story, but I wanted to finish it and so I did. Thanks for reading guys. TTFN!

K9KID out!