Walk With Shadows

1.

Soda's leg is bouncing up and down. He's like that, always moving, never able to sit still. High of life. But this time he's jittery for another reason, a reason I don't want to think about but that is impossible not to here in the hospital's waiting room.

I have crawled into my sweater, dragged the hood over my head and crossed my arms over my stomach. I keep my neck bent and my gaze steady on my sneakers, wanting to hide from all the prying eyes around us. There is a tightness in my chest that makes me not really sure how to breathe. I take shallow breaths though slightly parted lips, all while trying to keep it together.

I'm scared. Scared of what the woman sitting in front of us wants. Scared that what they told us just an hour ago is true. It can't be. It just can't. But I know it is, even if it feels surreal, like a nightmare. I hope I will wake up soon and nothing has happened at all.

But the bruises on my body and Soda's busted up face tells the true story. That and all the pictures in my head.

"Do you have any relatives close by?" the woman asks us. Her voice is soft and gentle, and filled with concern. Like we're little kids she needs to be careful with. "Someone we can call for you?"

"Our brother," Soda says immediately. "Darry. He's in college. We have to call him anyway to tell him-" He stops, his voice breaking. I glance up and see the woman leaning forward, putting a hand on his shoulder while waiting for him to compose himself. When he does, he tells her which college Darry goes to, says he doesn't know the phone number but that maybe Mom has it written on a note in her purse. And then he starts sobbing again, not even trying to hide it.

xXx

Everything is silent. All sounds are gone. The radio. Mom and Dad talking. The screech from the wipers against the windscreen.

I blink in the black and gray world, trying to understand what just happened. My chest feels sore under the seat belt, rising and sinking while I breathe. The rain clatters against the roof, making patterns on the windows, glittering in the faint light of the only working headlight.

I see Dad slumped over the steering wheel.

I don't see Mom, even though I'm sitting right behind her.

xXx

We are left alone. I don't know if the woman went to call Darry, or if she left for another reason. But I'm glad she's gone.

"Ponyboy," Soda says quietly, holding an ice pack against his face. I don't want to look at him, and it's not because of the bruises. I have seen bruises before. I cross my arms a little harder, lean back a little more against the hard back of the chair I'm sitting on.

"Pony," he tries again. "Talk to me."

xXx

"Pony, are you okay?" Soda whispers frantically, suddenly by my side, tugging at my seat belt to get me free. "You hurt?"

I breathe in and out, rapidly now. Where is Mom?

"Can you move?" He talks close to my ear, sounding frightened. "Ponyboy, can you move?"

I can't. My arms lie heavily in my lap. My legs won't work when I try to lift my feet. I don't know how to talk. Soda's eyes widen, and he says my name again, but I can't tell him that I'm okay. My tongue feels stuck in my mouth, and I taste blood.

"Dad!" Soda bursts out, but he doesn't get any answer from him, either. He turns around, squeezes his upper body between the front seats. "Dad!" he repeats, and he sounds real close to crying.

He doesn't call for Mom.

Seconds later he slumps back next to me, his face pained and pale. "Oh shit," he says, breathing into his hands. "Fuck, shit, shit. I don't know-"

"Soda?" I whimper.

He drops his hands, and I see that the left side of his face is bruised, blood trickling down his cheek from a cut up eyebrow. "You fuckin' scared me!" he exhales, but there is no relief in his voice.

"What happened?" I ask him, but I know. The headlights coming toward us. A car on the wrong side of the lane. Dad jerking the wheel to the right to get us out of danger. "What happened, Soda? Where is Mom?"

"We have to get help," Soda says, ignoring my questions. Leaning over me, he struggles with the door to my side and manages to open it. "C'mon, Pony."

I swing my legs over, put my feet on the ground but stop. The rain is coming down hard and I don't want to leave the car.

We were just going home, and I want to do that. Go home. That's all I want to do.

xXx

Soda rises suddenly. I close my eyes when I see Darry hurry past people and chairs to reach us, his hair messy and shirt disheveled. We saw him just a few hours ago, and then he didn't look like that. He was smiling all the time, showing us his dorm, letting us use his football inside his room and wrestle on his bed. He joked and laughed and you could tell he was happy and proud of managing to achieve his dreams. His last words when we had jumped into the car was that he would be home at Thanksgiving. But it's not Thanksgiving now, and he shouldn't be here yet.

And he ain't smiling anymore.

xXx

"Careful with the neck!"

"Get a flashlight over here!"

"David, can you-"

"Hold on, I got it."

"There's no pulse."

"Sir, can you hear me? Sir?"

xXx

"Did you see Dad?" Soda asks Darry, the two of them talking quietly beside me.

"No," Darry says. "They told me he's in surgery now. Did you see him?"

"They wouldn't let us." Soda takes a deep breath. "Did you... did you see Mom?"

"Not yet."

Soda sniffs. "...are you going to?"

"Maybe. I don't know. Shit, is this really happening?" Darry covers his mouth with his hands, looking so lost it scares me. He can't be lost, too.

xXx

I see the flashes of red and blue where I sit on the side of the road, hugging my knees. Soda is pacing in front of me. Back and forth, back and forth. The old couple in the car that stopped by tried to get us to sit in their back seat before, but he refused, so I did too. I don't even care about the rain anymore. I don't feel it, even though my clothes and the blanket draped over my shoulders are soaked. I shake and my teeth clatter and I'm real cold, but I don't feel it. I don't feel anything. Just numb.

"Boys?"

The sound of Soda's sneakers stops.

"Come with me. We need to take you to the hospital."

"I'm okay," I say into my arms. I don't want to move. I don't want to go to the hospital. I want this to never have happened.

Soda leans down and grabs my arm, and we follow the policeman to one of the ambulances that just arrived. A paramedic helps me up the stairs and sits me down, quickly starting to check me over, asking for my name and age and where I'm hurt. I answer in one word sentences, trying not to look at our car. Trying not to look as they lift out Dad and place him on a stretcher, putting a mask over his face.

Trying not to look when they bring out Mom.

xXx

Someone shakes my shoulder. I shake my head in response, covering my face with my arm.

"Pony, we need to go home."

"I don't wanna leave," I mumble, feeling hot and miserable. Somehow I fell asleep, curled up in the chair, despite the odd position and hospital sounds. "Not without Mom and Dad."

Darry drags a shaky breath, his hand still on my arm. "Pony, I... it's... they can't..."

"He knows," Soda says quietly behind him.

xXx

I don't remember the drive. I didn't fell asleep again, but I don't remember it. I sat in the front because I just couldn't sit in the back, and then there is nothing until I find myself in bed. I have all my clothes on, and my shoes, too, and I know Mom will go crazy over the dirt on the sheets.

I turn around and bump into Soda. He's lying in my bed, next to me, propped up on one elbow and watching me with red eyes. He bites his lip to stop it from quavering, and everything from last night comes back to me.

"Is Mom dead?" I ask him in a small voice. I know the answer. I know. It's like I suddenly get stabbed in my chest. I'm gasping for air as my lungs collapse, and I start sobbing, quietly first, then harder and harder. Soda grabs me, curling his arms around me and holds me tight.

"Yeah," he whispers into my ear. "She is."

I published this story for the first time several years ago, under the title "Family Breakdown", but it was pretty bad so I took it down. And then a little more than a year ago, I published the first chapter of the new version, but nothing else happened with it. So - I decided to start over again to get back on track. And this time, I really will finish it.

Please leave a review and tell me what you think!

And as I guess some of you know, English is NOT my native language, so please overlook my grammatical errors. Or even better - feel free to correct me! I can only learn if someone tells me when I do wrong. Thank you!

I don't own The Outsiders.