A/N: In this chapter, you're going to get to know Ryan a little better. I know the chapters seem to be getting progressively shorter and shorter, but don't worry. I won't let them get too short.

Chapter Five – Her Acoustic Song

Ryan pushed open the door of her "home" and looked around and as she expected, no one was home. She walked to the kitchen and threw her bag onto the counter. She walked over the to the fridge to grab something to drink and saw a note from her mother on the door.

Ryan,
Hey honey, your father and I are staying in Denver for the night. See you tomorrow.
Love, Mom

Ryan grabbed the note and tore it into pieces as she felt the anger start to rise. That man is not my father, Ryan thought. She hated how her mother referred to her stepfather as her biological father. It was like Ryan's real father hadnever existed.

She threw open the refrigerator door and reached for a Pepsi can. She popped open the top and took a sip as she sat down at the counter. She sighed.

Ryan looked around. It had only been a walk and a half, this place was still so foreign, like she was spending a few nights at someone else's home. This wasn't her home. It was seemed cold, with it's contemporary interior decorating her mother probably spend a fortune on. It didn't have the same homey feeling as her old house. This will never be home, she thought. It didn't help that no one was ever home but her. Her mother and stepfather spent most of their time out, usually in Denver. Why didn't we just move there? It would make a lot more sense.

Ryan couldn't help but sigh again. She stood up, and grabbed her soda and bag and headed upstairs to her room. She walked through the door, and smiled. Her room was her sanctuary, the only room in the entire house her mother hadn't attacked with interior design. She was allowed to decorate it in anyway she pleased.

She threw her bag onto her bed and glanced over at the picture of her and her father. She was no more than three, and she sitting on top of a Frisher Price slide, a grapefruit in her mouth, with her father holding her from behind. Those were the days, she thought.

She walked over to her closet and slide open the door. She reached for her acoustic guitar and picked it up from its resting place. She walked over and sat down on the edge of her bed, running her hands over the smooth surface of her guitar. This one was her baby, for lack of better words. The finest acoustic she had ever seen, it was the last present she received from her father.

Ryan adjusted so she could comfortably hold the guitar. She began to the play a song so familiar, she could play with her eyes closed. As she closed her eyes and began to sing, she was taken away. The music she made was releasing her soul, and she could see everything from back home like they were sitting all around her.

Her father is next to her, singing the words with her. Adam is on her other side, his hand on her back, looking at her adoringly. Her little brother is behind her, jumping up and down on her bed, acting immaturely as always. Her band members are in the space off to the corner, with their instruments, not playing though, just watching. Her friends are spread across the floor, just watching her, and nodding along with the beat.

The tempo picks up a little and her voice becomes a little higher. The images inside her head become more real. So real, she can hear her father's voice and feel Adam's hand on her back. She feels vibrations in her bed as though her little brother is really there, jumping up and down just like he used to. She can see every detail of all the clothing and jewelry everyone is wearing.

The song is drawer nearer to the end, but Ryan doesn't want to stop. If she stops and opens her eyes, she's knows she's still going to be in Everwood. Her friends will disappear, the band with disappear, her brother will disappear, Adam and her father will disappear and she'll be left with the nothing that she started with.

Where the song should have ended, it didn't. Ryan just kept playing notes she was making up as she went along. Somehow, she was forming a melody that seemed beautiful to her, and yet, she knew she'd never remember it if she tried to play it again. She had stopped singing, and now had focused all her energy on picking each note carefully. If she had her electric guitar, she would have stood up and played an angry chord or two, but with her acoustic, she had no choice but be mellow.

She was completely lost in her music and hadn't heard the front door open and slam shut. She hadn't heard her name be called from downstairs or the sound of the footsteps coming up the stairs. Her eyes still tightly shut, she didn't see Ephram, who had been standing in her doorway for the past fifteen minutes, staring at her with admiration and awe.