Author's Note: Okay, so this is kinda like part 2; the second half of this story. Woot woot, didn't think I'd actually keep with it this far. So this chapter is going to be in two parts because I made it like, 3000 words, so this will be easier to read. Review!

Chapter 7: Mysteries

Darkness. Screaming- his own. Shaking; starvation; a strong sense of terror. Desolation and desertion. No one to seek comfort from. All alone. A strong smack, another scream erupting from deep inside. Another blow. An endless circle. The smell of old and new blood. Finally, he got what he was waiting for; a bottle of water held up to his mouth to drink. He did so gratefully; until he tasted what was within. He spat it out. Blood. No, this couldn't be! NO!

Riley shot up in bed, sweating and shaking, just as he'd done in the dream. Thank god it was only a dream, though it seemed more real, almost as if from a past life of sorts. He had the odd feeling this wasn't the first time he'd had the dream, either. Without realizing it, he'd bitten down on his lip. He'd probably done it subconsciously to keep it from screaming. That explained the gruesome ending to the dream. His lip was bleeding. Sighing, he walked into the bathroom to get some water.

He turned the shower on as he scooped water from the sink in his hands. The cool liquid hit his face and his lip. It felt good. He looked at his reflection. He hated his hair when it was short like this; but his dad hated it when it was longer, so he had to get a major cut every once in awhile. His deep brown eyes looked slightly bloodshot. He glanced at the clock on the sink, 5.30. Great, could he have woken up any earlier? Oh well, he did have some stupid paper to finish anyway. The extra time would help.

Without knowing it, he felt his newly acquired lip ring. Maybe he hadn't bit his lip; maybe the ring had dug in again. It kept doing that and it was really annoying. The girl who did it had said it would stop swelling in a few days. Well, it had been a week, and this was till happening. At least Kathy, one of the prettiest girls at school, had said it looked hot. She was also one of the sluttiest; but Riley liked her. She'd welcomed him warmly when he'd been the new loserish kid. God; what a dork he'd been then. Skinny, awkward, with a slightly hollow look. But she'd been nice and he would forever be crushing on her for it.

He shed his holey shirt and inspected his chest. His six pack was getting more and more defined by the day. He was now bench pressing 175 every day. He examined his favorite tattoo on his right bicep. If he flexed his muscle, the anchor would grow and shrink. How cool would it be to join the navy someday? He slipped off the rest of his clothes and jumped in the shadow, letting the scalding hot water pelt his body. He sighed, very content. He'd already forgotten the dream.

--

"Riley, hurry up!" a raspy voice called.

"Coming, Dad!" Riley called. He printed the now finished copy of his report on Romeo and Juliet. He hoped he was ready for the test. He had to keep at least a C- average to stay in basketball. He grabbed his fresh, clean paper and sprinted downstairs to the breakfast table, skipping the last four steps with one huge jump. A spread of eggs, bacon, and sausage covered the table. Riley hungrily grabbed everything that was left. Behind his morning paper, his dad chuckled at the amount of food on his plate. His dad was a respectable looking, always clean-shaven man. He looked a lot like Riley, with curly hair and the same, deep brown eyes. He was also very fit like Riley. They often went to the gym together to see who could lift heavier weights longer. They were the perfect example of a father/son relationship.

"What time you'd get up, son?" his father asked distractedly while chewing his eggs.

"Like, 5.30," he answered, between wolfing down his food and orange juice. He remembered the source of his early morning. "I had some crazy nightmare, and I had to finish a report anyway so I just got ready early."

"What report?"

"Some stupid thing on Romeo and Juliet,"

"I hated that book in high school,"

"I know. But all the girls are, like, in love with it or something,"

"Yeah, well we have to get going," Riley Davids Sr. looked at the clock. 7.45. Good thing they only lived two seconds from the school. It was a small, out of the way school. It only hosted about three hundred students. With only seventy five kids per grade, it was a high school where everyone knew everyone. They lived in a small town called Moors with many other small towns around it. A few miles out was the comparatively big city of Albuquerque.

Riley had always wanted to visit the city, but for some odd reason his father had forbade it. Whenever asked the reason for this, his father would mumble something about a 'traumatic childhood experience there' and would say no more on the subject. Riley still found it very odd. Someday, if he dared to disobey his father's direct orders, he would visit and explore.

The problem was, he wouldn't dare disobey him. Though on the outside his father was happy and normal, Riley suspected he had some kind of bipolar disease. Sometimes, the tiniest things would set him on a large rampage. The biggest of these tiny things was when Riley used to ask about his life before the concussion.

When he was about twelve, Riley had been biking on an early Sunday morning and had been going far too fast. Being the stupid preteen he was, he hadn't bothered with a helmet. All he could remember was a lot of darkness and paranoia. But his father had helped him piece his life back together slowly. He hadn't been biking since.

Once, he dared to ask about his mother. His father had gotten so angry that Riley… but no, he didn't want to think about it now.

The pair got in the car. Riley complained as usual about driving. He was seventeen, why shouldn't he get to actually use the license once in awhile? But, as usual, his father insisted on driving. A few minutes later, Riley jumped out of the car and headed to the front steps of the modest school, waving good-bye to his dad as he headed off to the automobile shop. That was another thing they had in common-they both loved cars. Especially old ones. Riley could tell you anything about any car from 1930, to the present. If only he could drive a car once in awhile.

--

Riley walked alone to his locker. Riley walked to each class alone. Riley sat alone at lunch. Riley didn't get to go to fun hang out places with other teens. Sure people had offered to sit with him or walk with him or go hang out sometime. But Riley wasn't allowed to do that kind of thing. So, after awhile, the invitations got fewer and fewer until no one would even talk to him.

But basketball, that was a different story entirely. For some weird reason, it was all different in basketball. On the team he was captain. He was by far the best player. He had the most blocks because he had the highest jump. He had the most points because of his superb aim. He was a good team player. In basketball he could do whatever he wanted. He ruled.

The team never excluded him; on the contrary, he was the coolest kid there. Everyone always wanted to be around him there. But outside of the gym; off of the court; the magic ended. He was still the friendless loser. His teammates ignored him in the hallway. He never hung out with them outside of the sport. They weren't mean or anything, just cold.

Then he would enter the shining haven called the gym and it would all be back. He was cool and popular and actually acknowledged. He was king here. Who wouldn't love that?

But, one could only force so many practices on the team. There could only be so many after-game parties. Why couldn't all of life be basketball? That would be perfect. If only it were so.

A/n: End of part one of this chapter. Next one will come really quickly. I hope this one's not too short. ;)