Authors note: This idea has been playing a major role in my head right now, so I finally typed it up and here it is. I'm planning on making a part two, but only if I get some advise and/or some reviews. If there is a part two, it will be in the future because of my school, but it will be coming. This is just my idea of what could have happened if Sylvia was pregnant.
Disclaimer: I do not, in any way or form own anything. I don't own any of the characters mentioned nor the places. They all belong to the author S.E Hinton and are mentioned in, "The Outsiders."
Part I: Never get attached.
The ticking of the old clock which stood on her den was the only thing that stayed normal through out the years. Even as a young girl, with her Mary Jane's on and hair in pig tails, she could always count on that clock to always stay there.
When she couldn't sleep, Sylvia would simply Curl up in a blanket next to the old clock listening to it's ticking. If her insomnia got terribly bad, she would start to count the ticks one after one. One night, no matter how much she counted and rested her eyes, she couldn't sleep. But, she just laid there, listening and thinking about her parents.
By the age of 13 a couch was set into the room for her to sleep on when her nights got bad. The couch was old and worn, but she preferred it compared to the floor. She would rest her head on the pillow of the couch and stayed curled up in a tight ball. She couldn't help but think about all of the other people who were already asleep.
Her mom right now had her hair up in a tight bun with some face cream on her face dreaming about her father. Her father would be at work now, staking boxes or taking phone calls. Little Sylvia had called her dad on multiple times stating that she couldn't sleep and that no matter how many times he knocked on moms door, she wouldn't answer. He would sigh and tell her to go to bed. Then, with a click, the conversation would be ended.
On the night of August 11th, Sylvia couldn't sleep once again. She couldn't get Dallas Winston's face out her mind. His blue eyes and pale body. Man! She couldn't stop day dreaming about him. She was fifteen and finally had her first boy friend. She kept on playing the kiss over and over, then the next line that made them a couple.
About a year later they finally had sex. Dallas had been pushing it and threatened to leave her if she didn't. What was there left to do? With that line, she met his eyes and took off her shirt. She knew that Dallas' eyes were locked on her chest, not the tears that were jerking out of her eyes. She knew that Dallas knew about the Kiss with her and Tim, so she owed him this. When they finally finished Sylvia laid her head down on Dallas' chest and tried to think about what she did, but she couldn't.
About a month later, she slowly started to show signs of pregnancy. Her body was getting rounder and her moods were becoming more like her boy friends than her own. After a brief conversation with her close friend, Sandy, they started out on foot to the nearest store to purchase the ultimate test; the pregnancy test. When the timer beeped, that signified the test was over, she took a look at the test. A plus sign. She let out a cry and put her head in her hands. If she knew one thing, she knew that she had to only keep this between them. Dallas could not know.
A month after the test, Sylvia was panicking. She would look in the mirror every day and see herself getting larger. Of course she wasn't, it was just her mind playing some tricks on her. But, she knew that she would have to tell Dallas. Every morning in the mirror she would tell herself she would do it today, but that day never came.
The day of the rumble, the father of her child died young and desperate. He didn't even know he was father, or going to be for that matter. Now, Sylvia wished that she was young again, wishing she could just crawl up on the couch and listen to the ticking of the clock. But she knew that there was going to be much more complicated things according. In example, telling her mother about the life she chose the lead.
More tears ran down her face at the funeral, but they were not for Dallas, they were for her. They were for the countless nights she will fear about money. Or maybe even the child. She was afraid. Tim stood right beside her, with an arm over her shoulders trying to clam her down, but it was too late. She just wished that she could have changed what have happened. But she knew that she never could. With a lean into Tim's side, she let out a quiet sob.
That night was a re-run of her past. She slowly laid down, tucked her self in a blanket, and listened to the grandfather clock tick on and on. The ticks finally trudged down to one hundred.
She knew one thing, tomorrow she had to tell her parents. She had to, it was her only choice.