Disclaimer:
Outsiders: Not mine. Sodapop: Not Mine. Steve: Not mine... and I
don't want him, either!
A/N: Don't shoot me. This Vietnam
deal was Hinton's idea. lol.
Dedication: To Maesie... Poor
Soda. We should snuggle him!
As I Lay Dying
Oh, my God... I can't die. I'm only 18. It's almost my 19th birthday. Steve? Steve, is that you?
Steve's standing beside me. He's still shooting, but he's talking to me, too. "Soda, it's gonna be OK. I promise."
But I know it won't be OK.
God, help me. I've never been shot before. It hurts real bad. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I think of one of my friends, two years ago, under a bunch of streetlights with too many bullets in him. God, Dally... What did you think when those cops shot you? What did you...
It hurts so much. There are still gunshots all around me, and I just wish that I was home again.
Steve's down beside me as soon as the shooting stops. "Soda, you OK?"
I look up at my best friend, wishing my other friends were here, too.
"Soda?"
"I'm just great," I manage to say. "Only, I got this bullet in me." I try to grin.
Steve halfway smiles, but he's cryin'. I never saw Steve cry like that. Not since Dally got shot.
And then, I know for sure. I ain't just hurt. I'm dyin'. "Steve?" I say softly.
"Yeah?" he replies, through his tears.
"Steve, you're the best friend I ever had... Thanks."
"Soda... Soda, you're... You're gonna be OK," Steve says, but I ignore him.
"Steve, tell Ponyboy and Darry... I love 'em." I'm losing my ability to talk, so I gotta get this all out real fast. "And Sandy," I add. Because even though she hurt me... nearly killed me... I love her still. I love Sandy.
I'm so tired. So tired. I hear Steve saying, "No, Soda. Come on, man!"
But then I don't here him any more. I close my eyes, and I'm home again, in bed. Darry and Pony are waking me up for breakfast. And when I look beside me, there's Sandy holding a tiny boy close to her.
"Yeah," I think, before everything goes dark. "Maybe this ain't heaven, but it sure is close enough for me."