Title: Unwelcome Feelings

Author: Masochistic Cannibal

Rating: PG (for language)

Summary: Ryan thinks about his past, and gets a call about his mother that can change his outlook on things.

*~*~*~*~*~*

They never seem to end, no matter what, or how hard I try. Every night, every time I close my eyes and try to get one night of peaceful sleep, the nightmares of my past always find a way into my head, causing me to wake up covered in sweat and minimal air in my lungs.

I sit in the dark pool house, trying to calm my nerves as I rub my hands through my hair, grimacing as my hand becomes slick with sweat. No matter how good my life gets, I'm never going to be able to forget what happened to me in the process of reaching this dream like life here in Newport.

I untangle my legs from the blanket that's wrapped snuggly around my body and let my feet hit the cold floor, standing up as I lift my arms above my head and stretch my cramped back. Every night seems to be the same routine here. Go to sleep, wake up from nightmare, take a shower, and sit out by the pool until the sun comes up and I know it's safe to go into the Cohen's house without disturbing any of them from their peaceful sleep.

The pool house is unusually cool tonight as I wrap my arms around my waist and quickly walk down the hallway to the small bathroom, shutting the door and locking it as I quickly strip off my damp boxers and tank top.

I discard the clothes into the hamper that's sitting by the door and turn on the water in the shower, waiting until it's hot before jumping in and letting the warm water hit my bare skin. I get goosebumps from the contrast of the cold air and hot water at first, but they slowly fade as I put my palms on the tile in front of me and close my eyes, letting the water cascade down my face and over my body.

I stand in the same spot for what seems like hours, just letting the water aide in the relaxation of my body, but when I step out of the shower and grab my watch off the counter, the clock reads 5:45am, fifteen minutes after the time I actually got in the shower.

I grab a towel that's hanging over one of the doors on the shower and wrap it around my waist, holding it around my body as I walk back to the bedroom and pull a pair of pants, clean boxers, and a clean tank top out of my backpack. I guess, eventually, I'm going to have to put my clothes in the dresser, but I'm used to having something ready in case I need to leave quickly. It's a lot easier to just grab a bag that already has clothes in it, rather than having to go through drawers full of clothes to find something to take with you when you feel the need to run.

I slowly and quietly get dressed, wishing that I could just crawl back into bed and fall asleep, but that option never seems to be available to me. When I finish, I quietly walk out of the pool house and over to the patio chairs sitting on the edge of the pool, relaxing into it as I fold my hands over my stomach and slouch enough that you would think I'm going to fall out of the chair.

My mind immediately begins to wander back to the dream I had tonight, one that I've had plenty of times before. I can barely remember when I was able to get a full nights sleep, but I'm guessing it was before my life began to turn to shit. When our family wasn't constantly having to hassle with my dad being in jail, or all of my mom's abusive boyfriends paying me a visit when she wasn't home, or too drunk to realize that her son was getting the life beaten out of him.

All the nights that I've sat out here, I've tried to rack my brain and figure out how I got to this point. How I hit rock bottom so hard that at one point in my life, before I came to the Cohen's, I would have rather died than to go home and deal with all the problems I was faced with.

I've been tempted more than once to just end it, to give up and say fuck the world. I shouldn't be here, tainting a town that thinks they're all in the right with their corruption and lies. The people in this town seem to be so far above the world, that they think nothing bad will ever happen to them, as long as they have money.

I sit up in the chair and lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees and lacing my fingers together on the back of my neck. I always wonder why I was given a second chance, and why it had to be here. People should know by now, that no matter where I go, something bad's going to happen. It's like it's hereditary or something, passed on from father to sons.

I hear quiet footsteps behind me and turn my head slightly, watching as Kirsten approaches me quietly with a coffee cup in one hand and a smile playing across her lips. Why couldn't I have grown up with a mother like her all these years?

"Is this seat taken?" She asks, pointing to the empty seat next to me. I nod my head left and right slightly, and she sits down in the chair, letting out a barely audible sigh as she looks up at the sky.

"I thought you might want some company out here, maybe talk about what's on your mind."

I nod my head again and turn back so that I'm staring at the ground, wishing that I could be happy and carefree like the Cohens are. They have everything they could possibly ever want here.

"You know, most sixteen year olds sleep in until they're dragged out of their beds kicking and screaming, but every morning I wake up to get ready for work, you're sitting out here with your head either in your hands, or your staring up at the sky. Can you at least give me a little hint of what you're thinking about?"

I sit up and look at her, knowing that she won't let me get away anytime soon without telling her at least something. I sigh dramatically and stare blankly in front of me, feeling her eyes bruning into me.

"I was thinking of my past..."

I turn my head as she continues to stare at me, wanting me to say more, but I can't go on without breaking down and do something I haven't done since I was little. I was always taught that crying is for girls, that boys are the tough one's who don't feel pain or sadness, and even though I know it's not true, I still hate crying and allowing people to see me weak.

"The past is the past. You're here with Sandy, Seth, and I, and you don't have to worry about anything anymore. You're part of our family now, and we won't let anything happen to you without putting up a strong fight."

She pats me lightly on the shoulder as she stands up and walks to the door leading into the house, and I turn and look at her at the same time she looks at me.

"I know you need your space, so if you need to talk, you know where you can find me."

With that said, she flashes me a warm smile and walks back into the house, leaving me alone with my haunting thoughts.