1.) Security

Ricky Underwood stood looking Adrian directly in the eye. "You want to get to know me," he asked, "You wanna know who I really am?" Adrian looked at him and he found his answer so he looked at her harder, "The reason I'm in foster care is not just because my dad smacked me around and smacked my mom around, it's not just because they were both drug addicts and abandoned me over and over again, it's because my dad used to come home after a long day of hanging out and getting high to teach me a little lesson in how hard it is to be a man in this world, that's what he called it: a little lesson.

Every night I'd be in bed with my door closed just begging God that he wouldn't come in my room for one of his little lessons but night after night after night there he was."

Adrian looked at Ricky with tears in her eyes. She cupped Ricky's face even as he tried to pull back. "Ricky, I'm so sorry," she said to him, "Let me help you okay? I can talk to my dad, he can help you."

Ricky shook his head releasing himself from Adrian's sympathy, "No one can help me," he replied back to her and with shame and guilt in his heart he turned and walked away.

Ricky got in his car not even knowing that Adrian's father had been watching him from across the parking lot.

He pulled out and began driving, not home but anywhere. It was late at night which was perfect. Ricky made his way to the parking lot at the beach. Anger and pain still ripped out his insides and talking was out of the question since that had all ready made things worse for him.

Ricky reached in his glove compartment, so much stuff but his hands finally reached what he was searching for. He grabbed the tiny box and made his way towards the beach. The only lights came from street corners and from the moon above, enough lighting for what needed to get done.

He found a spot on the beach and took his shoes off and let the salt water near the edge wash over them. Taking off his shirt, he placed it aside and then reached in for the tool that lay in the box. The blade sliced through him in a swift, relaxing motion.

'A little deeper,' he told himself.

Ricky forced the blade in further. Not even sex could compare to this kind of erotic feeling, it was like true ecstasy but without the need and complications of a partner. Ricky brought the blade back and looked at it. In the darkness the only thing that could be seen was colors of black and white but he knew he had done it. The cut was perfect, three inches at the least. He could feel the coolness of blood trace along his back.

He looked down to his feet and though soaked, he moved his feet back from the edge, dried them off with his thrown shirt and began making his incisions. Blood began to flow and he took a deep breath.

Though the problems of what his life had become were still there he took relief knowing that at least this pain was something he could control. He felt satisfied but not fully, no matter how many times he drew blood it never did seem like enough. He had heard of those stupid vampire tales where the human body never seemed to have enough blood in them and though he wasn't drinking it, blood was still spilt and even that seemed like nothing.

Ricky looked down at his feet, reality, for some stupid reason, starting to sink in.

'I'm not ready to go back yet,' Ricky said to himself. He placed his feet back in the water, not caring that they would burn once the salt reached them. The pain of that and the pain of the cuts were better than dealing with the pain of reality.

He continued to soak his feet until they felt entirely burnt. Picking up his shoes and shirt he got up, threw away the blade in a nearby trashcan and made his way to his car. In the trunk he always carried a first aid kit just in case situations called for it.

Once bandaged up, he put his shirt and shoes on and made his way home.

Disclaimer: I do not own the opening sequence. Needed for story.