So my friends were making up OC Outsiders fanfiction during lunch at school a while ago, and it inspired me to write this, so… Kudos to you guys! Enjoy, and tell me what you think. This fanfic is mainly about Johnny, and what I think would happen if he did not die from his injuries in the book. This is taken from Johnny's point of view.
I don't own anything, but I wish I did. :P
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Mother wanted to see me today. She kept coming to the hospital, and I could hear her screaming at the staff every day. Why wouldn't she just go away? She would only scream at me for causing her so much trouble and embarrassment.
Of course, the gang were the only people who ever cared about me. The only time father notices me is when he's beatin' up on me. My back… It feels better, but it still hurts like crazy. Ponyboy and Two-bit visited me two days ago, and they got me a copy of Gone With the Wind. At least I have something to do now, other than just lying down on my stomach on this stupid gurney all day.
Ponyboy read some of this book to me when we were at the abandoned church on Jay Mountain. That was the only time I went somewhere outside of this neighborhood… The only time I had ever gotten out of this God-forsaken place. Day by day, I was getting a little better, but the doctor said that it would be at least another two weeks until I could be released. I ain't no doctor, but… At least, as far as they know, I'm not going to die. I used to talk about dying all the time, and I actually wanted to. But now I didn't. Sixteen years isn't long enough to live. It's too short… Too short…
Dally entered my hospital room. I always kind of admired Dally. I could hear him shouting at some nurse a while ago… Probably didn't want to go to sleep when they wanted him to.
"Hey, Johnny, feelin' all right?" he asked.
"Still feelin' terrible, but I'm gettin' better day by day, Dal."
"Big rumble two nights ago… We won."
"How d'you know?"
He grinned. "Ran away from the hospital… I ain't stayin' in this hell-hole forever. I couldn't use my left arm, but I'm a rightie anyway. They ran away! Those little wimps! I can't believe they ran! We beat them pretty badly… Pony's not too good, though, I hear."
That caught my attention. Ponyboy was my best friend. "What? Is he okay?!"
Dally shrugged. "Darry said he had a minor concussion, but what do I know? I ain't a doc."
For the first time, I wanted something bad to happen to Dallas Winston. I hate fighting. I hate it, and I hate any act of violence. I always respected Dally, but why did he have to be such a jerk sometimes? Then, suddenly, I had to feel angry at myself. He was one of the only people that cared about me.
"I wanna see Pony," I mumbled.
He shrugged. "I'm gonna call Darry, man. Hospitals are boring! I want out!"
Well, that was an understatement. I was still worried about Ponyboy and the rest of the gang. Some of them were surely hurt from the rumble. I mean, most of us were short and scrawny. The best fighters were Darry and probaby Dally. Dally, because he had experience in gang fights. Darry, because, well, look at that guy! He's huge! He's all muscle.
Either way, I wanted to see the people that were like family to me. Was Soda okay? And what about Darry? Two-bit? Steve? I want to get out of this place.
"Dal!" I called hoarsely.
He stood still in the doorway. "Yeah, Johnny?"
"Where is Pony now?"
"Right across the hall."