I'd been doing it since Dally and Johnny died, almost a year ago now. Only one person knew and no one else was going to find out. I did it on my leg so no one would see. They weren't deep but there were a lot of them. A whole row of them from about my hip bone halfway down my thigh. It was the only thing I could do to release and control the sadness and frustration from what had happened. It hurt though. It hurt that I had to resort to this when everyone else was getting along just fine. Even Ponyboy and he had seen both of them die!
"Steve!" there was banging on the door, "Steve!" I quickly packed up the razor blade I used and pulled my jeans back on properly. I opened the door and almost walked into my twelve year old sister Laura. She was holding two of her dolls and smiling up at me. That hurt too. Knowing that my innocent little sister looked up to me when I was really this horrible person.
"Hey, watch it," I said to her, walking around her and down the hallway to the lounge room. I flopped down on the old, dirty couch and winced a little as the fresh cuts rubbed closely against my jeans. Laura had followed me in, offering me one of her dolls. I played with her sometimes, I enjoyed spending time with her. Plus she had no one else to play with. She wasn't very good at making friends.
"Play dolls with me?" she asked just as the phone began to ring. I jumped up and quickly walked through to the kitchen, where the phone was.
"Hello?" I answered.
"Hey-a Steve! Come over, I'm bored," it was Soda. I thought for a second. Play with my sister or hang out with my best friend? Best friend.
"Sure, I'll be over in a couple-a minutes," I told him and hung up the phone, not waiting for him to say good-bye. I was already ready to leave. I went back to the lounge room where Laura was still waiting for an answer, "Laura, I'm going over to Soda's. I'll be home before dinner. I promise we'll play as soon as I get home," I told her. I knew she wasn't really happy about that but she smiled up at me.
"Okay, bye. Have fun!" she yelled after me as I left the house. I only lived two streets over from Soda. He could've come over to my house if he wanted to hang out. But he was too lazy to do that. I bet when I get to his house he'll be stretched out on the couch watching the TV. Probably with Ponyboy in the room, rambling on to him about something or other. He was like that, he was always talking. I sort of hoped Ponyboy wouldn't hang around with us all day but these days I didn't mind him as much as I used to. I don't know what it was but there was something about him that was less annoying. It felt like he understood me more or something, like we got along better. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that he was the person that knew. That knew about this self-harming thing I'd caught on to.
How did he know? It happened a month or two ago. Soda had told me he was coming over and I didn't know, but he was bringing Ponyboy too. I was sad that morning and was in the bathroom when they arrived. Laura and my dad both were'n't home so I hadn't locked the door. I heard Soda tell Ponyboy I was still in bed and Ponyboy told him he was going to use the bathroom. I didn't have enough time to pack up before he opened the door and he was staring at me. It was a week before he said anything. He got me alone when I was walking home from school and I just explained it all. It poured out of me. I figured he would understand. If anything, I thought this would've happened to him. Like I said, he saw them both die and all. And he was there when Bob was killed. He hasn't said anything about it since but sometimes when he notices I'm said he gives me a small smile.
When I walked on into the house I was right. Well, half right. Ponyboy was the one stretched out on the couch. Then I realized Soda wasn't even there.
"Hey," I said, sitting in the arm chair in the corner of the room. Pony looked up, surprised.
"Oh, hey Steve. Soda just went down to the store to get some stuff," he told me, looking back at the TV.
"Okay," I replied. Boy, he must be bored, I thought. He was watching the morning news.
We sat in silence for a few minutes. The only noise from the TV.
"How you been?" he asked. He took me by surprise, I didn't think he cared that much. I always just thought it would be a secret between him and I until I got over it.
He looked over the arm of the couch at me. I shrugged and looked down. I could feel myself going red.
"Okay," I told him. He scoffed.
"Steve, I know you hate me but don't lie to me. How have you really been?" he asked. This time he sat up and looked at me. I didn't know what to say. Tell the truth? Lie? Don't say anything? But I said something and it was the wrong thing.
"I've been. . ." I started and wasn't sure whether to finish or not, "I've been. . ."
"You've been what?" he prompted me to finish.
"I've been thinking about suicide," I blurted out, this time looking him in the eye. I noticed his hard face, not even wanting to think about death right now. And why should he be? I shouldn't be talking to him about this. He'd lost too many people in his life. I should be telling Soda about this. No, not even him. I should be keeping this to myself.
"Don't do it Steve. It's not worth it. Trust me," he said in a harsh voice, like he expected me not to listen to him. And he was right. I wasn't going to listen to him. Why should I listen to my best friend's kid brother? "Please. Imagine all the people that would miss you. Soda, Darry, Two-Bit, Laura, me. As much as you might wanna be with Johnny and Dally, it's not worth it."
"What would you know?" I asked sharply, "You're-"
"I've thought about it heaps. It's not worth it. I'll be with my parents and Johnny and Dally when it's time. But right now it's not. Stay gold, that's what Johnny wanted me to do. And I want to do that for him," he told me, the whole time staring down at his hands in his lap. When he finished talking he looked up at me, tears in his eyes, "Just don't do it."
"Pony, you don't know what it's like for me. You've got no idea-"
"I've got some idea," he interrupted me again, "It's not worth it. You've got heaps to live for." He said all this in a blank tone of voice and I wasn't sure if he was being serious or not. I didn't believe him either way.
"Okay," I said, ending the talking between us. We stared each other in the eye, both of us refusing to lose and look away. He lost. He looked down at my jeans for a second and then back into my eyes.
"You've bled through your jeans. I'll get you a clean pair of Soda's," he said, standing up and leaving the room. I heard him rummaging around in his room before returning with a clean pair of blue jeans, similar to mine, "Get changed quick before Soda gets back."
I took the jeans from him, smiled and headed for the bathroom.