I don't own the Outsiders, or the song used, which is Why Do All Good Things (Come to an End) by Nelly Furtado. Enjoy! :)
Nobody knew who, exactly, tacked the empty notebook on to the large tree by the fountain, with a pencil attached to it using a string. All they knew was that one day it wasn't there, and the next it was. On the cover, only two large words were scrawled:
For release.
XXX
Weeks passed, and the notebook stayed empty. The thick protection of the leaves of the elm tree kept the pages from soaking through when it rained, and the sun would dry the notebook when it did get wet . Once in a while, someone would pass it curiously and flip through it, but once they discovered that it was blank, they would quietly move on.
One calm day in the fall of 1966, though, the notebook finally served its purpose. And from there, it just kept filling up with words from more and more people, until it resembled... a poem.
XXX
Ponyboy Curtis stood for a long time, just staring at the place where everything started. It was unbelievable, the rate at which everything had happened. He simply stood there, feeling so many levels of helplessness.
That was when he noticed the weathered notebook, still tacked on to the tree. Without thinking, without even realizing what he was doing, he roughly flipped the front page and grabbed the pencil. It was stupid to do it, but he really didn't care anymore...
So he wrote. Only three lines, but that was enough for now.
Honestly, what will become of me?
don't like reality
It's way too clear to me...
And then he simply closed the notebook and left it there, walking away.
XXX
Darry Curtis sighed, at a loss for how to help. His youngest brother wasn't dealing so well with the deaths of Johnny and Dallas; barely talking and having even more frequent nightmares.
Sometimes he wished he could just get it into Pony's head that dreaming solves nothing. He had to live while he had the chance. Life didn't last forever, a fact that last month should've taught Ponyboy. It was useless to live in the past.
By some strange force of nature, Darry found himself walking towards the same park that Johnny killed that Soc in. He'd noticed the notebook hanging there for weeks, but today there was something written inside. Words written in his brother's handwriting. It was sharper, more jagged and messier than usual, but no doubt about it: Ponyboy had written this.
Darry read it three times, wanting to get into Ponyboy's head for just a little while. The words scared him, especially the way it ended so suddenly. His brother was never so blunt with his words; so frank. And it was so short...
All of a sudden, Darry had an idea. He knew it in his heart that Pony would come back here sometime, and he wanted him to find something in the notebook that wasn't his own writing. Darry was never one for the poetry, but he'd have to try it now, for Ponyboy's sake. Anything to help his brother.
But really life is dandy
We are what we don't see
Missed everything daydreaming...
The last words were a little harsh, Darry had to admit, but it was for his brother's own good. Satisfied with his work, he left the notebook there and headed home.
XXX
Two-Bit Mathews was not having a very good day. Kathy had finally had enough of his antics, and left without as much as a look back. Two-Bit would never admit it, but she was something special, not like his various blondes. To some degree, he'd loved her.
And on top of that, the gang seemed to be drifting farther and farther apart as Soda and Steve went to war, Darry got busy with his roofing company, and Ponyboy retreated further and further into his shell.
He wandered to the park, serious for once. It was all coming to an end... Everything. Absentmindedly picking up the pencil next to the familiar old notebook, he fiddled with it for a while. Maybe he'd write something in it today...
Chuckling a little at the fact that he, Two-Bit Mathews, the joker of the group, was going to try to write a bit of poetry, he opened the cover of the notebook and read the first few lines before adding his own.
Flames to dust
Lovers to friends
Why do all good things come to an end?
Whistling a little, he put down the pencil and left for work. The fun times were coming to an end, and Two-Bit wasn't sure if he was ready or not.
XXX
For months and months, the notebook was again left there, its few words slowly starting to fade away. In the winter of 1972, though, someone found it once again. He squinted at the words to read them again, and smiled sadly with some nostalgia.
The twenty-two-year-old thought for a while, then used his own pen- he always carried one around now, in case inspiration would hit him at the strangest time- to write carefully in the notebook that was now falling apart. (The pencil attached had long since disappeared.)
The words he wrote were reminders of the old days, and he tied in many of his own struggles and experiences too. Slowly and steadily, he finished the notebook and peeled it off of the old tree trunk, slipping it carefully into his backpack. He'd keep this notebook for as long as he lived.
Traveling, I only stop at exits
Wondering if I'll stay
Young and restless
Living this way I stress less
I want to pull away when the dream dies
The pain sets in and I don't cry
I only feel gravity and I wonder why...
Flames to dust
Lovers to friends
Why do all good things come to an end?
Well the dogs were whistling a new tune
Barking at the new moon
Hoping it would come soon so that they could
Dogs were whistling a new tune
Barking at the new moon
Hoping it would come soon so that they could
Die...
Flames to dust
Lovers to friends
Why do all good things come to an end?
Well the dogs were barking at a new moon
Whistling a new tune
Hoping it would come soon
And the sun was wondering if it should stay away for a day 'til the feeling went away
And the sky was falling on the clouds were dropping and
the rain forgot how to bring salvation
the dogs were barking at the new moon
Whistling a new tune
Hoping it would come soon so that they could
die.
Please, review?