Disclaimer: I do not own The Outsiders or The Butterfly Project. :D
Cherry POV
I had to stay after class one day and talk to Mr. Symes about the project that he assigned us to do. I was partnered up with Randy Anderson, and I couldn't handle it. It brought back too many memories.
"Mr. Symes, can I talk to you about the partners you gave us?" he peered over the top of his glasses and put the paper in his hands down.
"What about them, Ms. Valance?" He asked. I thought for a minute, and then spoke again.
"Well, you see, I can't have Randy Anderson as a partner. You know he was Bob's best buddy, and I just can't handle that right now. I miss him like crazy and I just can't… I couldn't…" I sighed and wiped the tiny drop of water coming from my eyes.
"I'm sorry, Ms. Valance, but there is nothing I can do for you. All of my other students have already been assigned, and it would be unfair to them if I made them switch their groups out. Some have already started on the reading and other work. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some grading I need to get finished." He picked up his red pen and started scribbling on the piece of paper. I stood there in shock of what just happened for a few seconds. The teacher kept to himself, as if I had left. I sighed, then walked out of his classroom.
I left the school building and started for my car. I look over to the side, and see a boy on the bench, sitting there looking at his wrist. As I look more closely, I realize that the boy is Ponyboy, and that there is crimson red liquid dripping from where he held his blade. I quickly walked over to him, not even bothering to worry about my reputation. I saw that, in fact, he was cutting his wrist.
"Ponyboy! What on Earth do you think you are doing?! Put that blade down, you're hurting yourself!" I shouted to him, making him jump.
"Cherry Valance, what are you-"
"What am I doing? What are you doing?! You can't be hurting yourself like this, Pony." I sit next to him, snatching the blade from his grip, then grabbing a piece of fabric from his shirt and pressing it against the cut to stop the bleeding.
"I was just relieving it!" he said in a defensive tone.
"What do you think you're relieving, Ponyboy?" I asked more softly.
"All the pain. Johnny is dead. Dallas is dead. My parents are dead. And it's all my fault. Its better having physical pain then emotional pain eating me inside and out." I dab the fabric gently on the cut, then I pull out a pen and hold it up to show him. Then I draw a butterfly on his wrist by the cut, with my name written underneath it.
"What's that for?" He asked. I look up and smiled at him.
"It's called the butterfly project. This is your butterfly. You have to protect it, and you can't wash it away. It has to come off naturally. If you hurt yourself before it comes off, then you killed it. You killed me." My voice cracked. I really didn't care about my repute right now. Ponyboy was a good kid with too much on his mind, and I was worried. I was scared to death! For all I know, his life is so awful he could be thinking about suicide. "And when it rubs off and you feel like hurting yourself, draw another one. Think of me, think of Sodapop, and think of Darry, about Johnny, and Dallas, your parents! How would they feel if they saw you now?" I wipe away the tear that fell from my eye once again. He looked at me with eyes that looked scared and ashamed.
"I guess they wouldn't think it's too hot of an idea, huh?" I let out a giggle and sighed again. I slowly stood up again, and put a hand on his shoulder. Then I turned around and left. I slightly look at him over my shoulder to see him stand up and walk the opposite way towards the junky truck barreling towards him. I turn back around and walk silently towards my home. Then I collapse to the ground and put my head in my hands. I was letting the tears flow freely now, and my breath was short. I sniffle a few times and try to gather myself together again. As I started walking again, I slowly pull up the sleeve of my blouse to reveal seven tiny white scars along the sides of my arm, and a poorly drawn butterfly with "Bob" written underneath it. I lick my thumb, and wipe away the name, and replace it with "Ponyboy." I look at it for what seems like a thousand years. Then I slide my thumb across it, and I found myself smiling down at my wrist. Scars of pain, scars of loss, scars of hope and relief. I start walking again, this time with a different perspective on my life.
Hey guys. I wrote this just as a silly little story in my mind.. but this turned out to be much more than that. My best friend landed in the hospital because of cutting. She was just slitting herself, like always, when her brother came in without knocking and it scared her. She dug the blade too deep into her wrist and cut a vein. Almost bled to death. This isn't a joke. This is for reals. It is a serious problem in teens with or without family problems, with or without depression, or abusive boyfriends. Okay? The Butterfly Project is a real thing, and it helps. :| Okay, guys! Thanks for reading! I appreciate reviews... :D