Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own The Outsiders. S.E. Hinton is the brilliant author who wrote it. I just write fanfictions with the characters because I am a dedicated fangirl. Enjoy and stay gold.

Wanna be our new Kid Brother?

Chapter One

I darted in between the cars parked in the parking lot towards the dumpsters. I glanced around quickly, making sure no one saw me, then shoved my hand inside. I felt around for half eaten burgers or fries. Eventually, I found a handful of fries, a decent piece of burger, and some old napkins. I guess this was dinner.

Silently, I began my walk to my "home." It was an empty lot in the middle of some rundown neighborhood. Nobody would bug me here. I'd be safe. At least that's what I thought...

There was an old rusty truck abandoned there. For the past three days I'd been sleeping in the bed of the truck with a few newspapers I dug out of the trash for blankets. Sure, it wasn't comfortable, but it could be worse. Much worse.

I ran to the truck and carefully climbed inside, hoping no one spotted me. I chewed my burger slowly, trying to make it last. I'd done my best to find at least one meal a day but I was broke. There was no way I could get money, besides pick pocketing or selling drugs and all that illegal crap. Nope. No way. I ate half of the fries and put the rest in the napkins. Maybe I'll eat them tomorrow for dinner. I yawned, it was only around nine, I'm guessing anyway, but I hadn't been getting much sleep recently. Believe me, traveling around Oklahoma can be exhausting. I laid down, covering myself in the newspapers, and closed my eyes.

Thud.

I opened my eyes slowly, confused. What was that?

Thud.

I sat up quickly. Another thud. Then the car started shaking. I looked outside the window and saw four dark figures on the side car, pushing it back and forth. What the….?

Thud.

Voices. Deep, dangerous voice flooded my ears from the outside.

"He's in there."

"Let's get him."

They were boys. Probably here to pick on the little, dirty homeless kid. Aka me. The front door was yanked open. Crap. Rough hands grabbed my shirt and pulled me towards my attackers. I tried pulling away, I really did, but I was weak. Days without much sleep or food does that to a person. They threw me down to the ground.

"Hey, greaser," a voice taunted. Greaser? What's a…

A punch to the stomach stopped my thoughts. I groaned, but quickly cut it off. The three other guys took turns between kicking my sides or holding me down. A rain of punches poured down on my face, making my vision go blurry.

"Help! Someone help!" I yelled as loud as I could.

"Blake, shut him up!" A dirty rag was shoved in my mouth. It tasted like oil and had a very heavy scent of alcohol. They were drunk. The punches kept coming, bruising my body.

"Time for a bath, you little greaser," one boy said.

"Yeah, maybe we can wash that grease out of your hair," another boy said. I didn't even put grease in my hair, I couldn't afford it. A lot of the guys I saw, greasers I guess, wore grease in their hair. My hair was long and shaggy and it was oily. I never really had time for a bath. I tried my best to wash up when I could but digging in dumpsters for meals doesn't let you stay clean for long. Four hands grabbed me and practically dragged me out of the lot and into the park a block away. They pulled me towards a little fountain. I made the connection. They wouldn't. They couldn't. A hand shoving me into the frigid water quickly changed that. They would.

I fought against the four pairs of hands, towards the surface. I gasped for air when my head poked through, then I was pushed back down. The water was absolutely freezing. My throat was burning. It felt like it was on fire. I never knew drowning could be so painful. Behind my closed eyelids all I could see was a grey fuzziness, a sign I was losing consciousness. I had to stay awake. After all I fought against I couldn't die by being shoved in a park fountain.

With my last ounce of energy I pushed away to the top again, only to be pushed down again by three pairs of hands. I guess this is it. I'm gonna die. I let me body fall limp, waiting for the icy water to freeze over my body forever. Wait, three pairs of hands? I thought there were four guys.

Suddenly, I was pulled to the surface by two hands. I gagged when I breathed in the cold air. The hands dropped me on the ground on the side of the fountain. Ouch.

"Sorry, greaser." Then he left. I kept gasping for breath. I wondered how long I was under. Eventually, I threw up, my vomit burning my throat. It covered the front of my shirt and chin. I wiped my chin with my sleeve. I was shaking, both from fear and the freezing air. I needed a place to stay. Somewhere warm, or at least warmer than the ground. I eased myself up, hissing in pain. My side hurt but I needed to get somewhere before I could check my injuries. Hopefully, I was only bruised. There was no way I could afford a trip to the doctor's office and even if I could they'd send me straight to a boy's home. I shuddered at the thought. No thank you.

I limped back to the lot. I almost cried when I saw the abandoned car I'd been sleeping in. The windows were busted and the door was barely hanging off the side. There was no way that car would keep me warm. To make things worse, it just had to start raining at that moment, and not just a little sprinkle. No, it just had to be a torrential downpour. I shivered. It was really cold, and being soaked and wet didn't help much, either. I looked at the houses, probably all warm and cozy inside with nice, soft beds. I coughed. Crap. I coughed. I was getting sick. After a while the cough attack subsided and I could breathe better. I then acknowledged a warm, sticky substance running down my face. Blood. The houses looked so rundown, yet so inviting. Maybe I could run in quickly and wash up a little bit? In and out. Then, I'll go back to the car and make the most of it. In fact, the little white house had all the lights off. Maybe no one was home. In and out.

I made a small sound when climbing the stairs towards the door. My side screamed in pain. I carefully approached the door, trying not to make any more noise. I was about to smack myself, they probably locked the door. I don't use my head. At least that's what he always told me. I decided to try it anyway. Maybe life was pitying me and they'd left the door unlocked. Apparently, life was pitying me because the door was unlocked. I could've jumped up and yelled "Halleluiah!" if I wasn't about to break into a house and wasn't in so much pain. I stepped into the house. It was small and messy. I quietly walked through down the hallway, searching for a bathroom. I opened one door and found myself in a bedroom. It was small but clean and organized. The bed was made. Oh, the bed. It looked so incredibly soft and warm. I was exhausted, it must've been around one now. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to lay down for a few…

And there is the first chapter of "Wanna be our Kid Brother?" I hope you enjoyed. Thank you so much for reading. Darry's POV coming up. You guys know what to do, and if you don't I'll tell you...REVIEW. And since I'm a nice person I'll use my manners. Please review. Pretty, pretty, pretty please, with a cherry on top. Thanks again!

- Stay Gold -

Sincerely,

Teenbookworm13