Happy New Year. There's still a few hours till midnight for me but I'm lame and probably won't make it.
Anyways, please read my profile. It explains my pen name change and a lot more. (sorry if you're confused, future people)
This is a one shot idea that came to my head a few nights ago. Literally, night. I had to get out of bed and stumble across my bedroom for my notebook so that I could write it down.
Hopefully it's not too confusing.
I don't own the Outsiders.
)()()(
It's movie night. After a fervent argument between Ponyboy and Sodapop we decide on The Fly.
Everyone settles into the living room. I'm on the sofa surrounded by my wife Laura and my oldest son, Darry. My two youngest sons cram themselves side by side into an armchair.
I listen as Soda and Ponyboy have an animated conversation about the bugs they'd found in the yard that day. I know that some day along the line I'll open up a closet door and find buckets of dead bugs.
Out of the corner of my sight I see my oldest son roll his eyes.
I glance at Darrel. The oldest of my children. He's sixteen years old now and teetering on the edge of childhood and adulthood. I watch him as he fingers with the label on his Pepsi with boredom. My son is a spitting image of me, and he's seen The Fly nearly ten times.
I say he's got a real brilliant future ahead of him. It was long ago that he bested me in the ability to throw a football and now he's a starter on his highschool team. He makes great grades too. The last time he brought home a grade lower than a C he was in the seventh grade.
These are the thoughts that cross my mind. This is what I think my son's future holds. I don't even begin to consider that fact that four years from now, he might be working two jobs to hold up the weight of his younger brothers. Nor do I ponder the fact that he might turn down a scholarship to do so.
I never have that thought and I never will.
Just then I hear Ponyboy wince. I look in time to see him throw another piece of popcorn at his brother. "That got in my eye!" he complains.
Soda retorts, "Ya almost got one in my ear!"
I then turn my attention to my younger sons. The two of them have taken over my arm chair - squished together with a bowl of popcorn balancing between them. Those two are close as pages in a book. I can't help but smile as they continue to flick popcorn at each other playfully.
Soda is my second oldest son. He just turned twelve last month.
Sodapop is an interesting boy, hence his name. He was a handful as a kid. He seems to constantly get himself into trouble, sometimes dragging Pony along with him on his mischievous adventures. When he talks it's at a mile a minute pace without stopping. That kid will ramble till he's out of breath and blue.
There isn't a thing Soda can't take apart and put back together again either. My wife and I discovered this when he was a mere five years old and we walked in on him sitting on the pavement surrounded by pieces of what appeared to be Darry's bicycle.
Four years from now, I'd never imagine that he might be a highschool dropout working at a gas station in order to help his brother cover finances. These thoughts never cross my mind and I won't live to see the day that they will.
Just then Sodapop spills the bowl of popcorn on the floor. Groaning, he and his brother crawl all over the floor gathering pieces and putting them back into the bowl.
I look towards my youngest son, Ponyboy. He's about as bright as a ten year old can get. He's wiped out nearly every book in the house bought for either him of Soda. Now he's starting to edge into Darry's collection. I hold him back. There's still a few things to be discussed before he can delve into his brother's books.
I can picture Ponyboy going off to college and getting a real great career, just like Darry.
What I can't imagine my son getting himself caught up in a murder by the time he's fourteen. Or manslaughter. Whatever the police decide to call it. The thought that he might seek refuge in an old dilapidated church for days on end doesn't even have time to cross my mind before common sense bypasses it. When in a million years would that happen?
Laura snuggles into the crook of my arm. I sling an arm around her and smile. She's beautiful.
"Aww dad…" Soda whines suddenly from his position on the floor. I look at him. "Are ya gonna kiss?"
Ponyboy nearly drops the bowl of popcorn back on the ground. "That's disgusting."
Laura smiles buoyantly at me and I chuckle. "I guess we won't anymore."
Relieved, Soda settles back into the chair. "Good. That sort of stuff should be illegal to do around kids." Ponyboy nods silently in agreement.
Besides me, Darry snorts. He wears an expression someplace between annoyed and amused.
What a happy family I have.
I don't think about the fact that four years from now, this family will be torn apart by a car accident on a cold, snowy night.
That thought never enters my head, and it never will.
Even as four years from now, I take my last breaths on the side of a highway.
)()()(
Hopefully you understood this mess.
I sort of like it. I mean, the grammar's alright. The idea is somewhat original.. It's sort of short, yes. But What can I say? I have a rough time with long chapters and whatnot.
See you in 2017. Please review!