"I don't know exactly when they started, sometime after Windrixville I believe. At first it was every few weeks, they weren't there for long. But soon it was everyday. The voices, telling me things, things about me and the gang. They were saying it was my fault Johnny and Dally died. And in a way I guess they were right. I was the one who wanted to walk with Cherry, the one Bob wanted dead. Everything was my fault.
When Soda and Darry finally found out about the voices it had been too late. I had tried to take my own life. From what I can guess by how they had been acting recently it was pretty bad. There wasn't too much I actually remembered from that time. I remembered feeling a sense of numbness, like nothing mattered anymore and to me, nothing did. It wasn't until a year after the voices started that the thoughts did. Not long after that was my first attempt.
It wasn't something too big, or at least compared to some of the other teens. I only slit my wrist in the bath tub. The way the blood ran down through the drain, mixing with the water. It gave me a sense of being calm and I liked it. From what Soda had told me I was already almost gone when Steve found me. I was mumbling incoherently about Johnny and Dally, aplogizing to them and to mom and dad. What therapy ad taught me was I don't remember that because my brain tried blocking it out. I didn't want to remember and it wasn't going to make me. Now I kind of do want to know, remember what if felt like as my life was slipping away, what laying at death's door felt like. I wanted to feel the same kind of pain Johnny had felt.
The doctors wouldn't let me feel it though, They kept shooting me with pain medication, kept putting me out. I didn't like it. In fact I hated it. My time in the hospital was awful, a few kids from school visited me. Including Cherry and Randy. Actually they visited more than my own friends, or who I thought we my friends. I guess they both thought my attempt was their fault, and in a way it was. What was really bad though was missing out on school. Though I still hated going everyday, having to deal with questions about what had happened it was a way for me to escape. To lose myself for a little while.
Therapy would have had to be the worst. Before I was allowed to leave the hospital I had to complete two weeks of therapy. Someone who pretended to care about my problems. Pretended they actually knew what was wrong in my life. It was stupid. I got through and was allowed to go home, if it could even be called that anymore. I was under constant watch and everything was under lock and key. I wasn't allowed near any sharp object and I couldn't do anything without Steve or Two-Bit right there. Some days it'd be Darry or Soda based on if they were free. It was supposed to help me, let me know that people really did care, if anything though it made me want to die more than ever.
They'd always talk about Johnny or Dally when I was around. I'd stay quiet and not mention it, but on the inside it was killing me. I couldn't stand it, it was all my fault and no one else could see that. I wanted them to stop their talking, wanted all of them to just shut up and let me curl up and die already. But they would have it. No matter how much I deserved it they wouldn't allow it. And that killed me inside more than anything. I could tell they all wanted me to die, whether they said it out loud or not. Maybe it was the lion that killed the lamb, or maybe it was the lions stupid decisions. Either way the lamb has died, and wasn't coming back.
Perhaps I might have been saved if it wasn't for the lack of freedom. I wouldn't be here today, where it all started. The drive-in is busy as usual and to everyone I'm still just the quiet one. Writing this letter, it makes no difference, though today is different. Like always Two-Bit is here, but he's not paying enough attention to me. As soon as I have a chance I'm leaving. I know that Darry and Soda will blame him for this, but he won't deserve it. This is my choice, my choice of wanting to leave this cruel world. Join Johnny, Dally, my mom and dad. I know they won't be too happy about my choice, but it's better than living here without them. Better than having to deal with the pain that their deaths are my fault.
Two-Bit was just going to the bathroom. He's probably freaking out by now, but I don't care. I have a plan, and I'm going through with it. I am sitting where the cement is still stained a tint of red, where I was almost killed. Drowned. Johnny killed here to keep me alive, saved my life. And I thank him for it, everyday. Sometimes it's impossible to believe that he's really gone. I'll be near the lot or his old house and look around, almost expecting him to be walking around nearby. I don't think I want it any other way either.
I'm sorry Darry, Soda, Steve and Two-Bit. I killed Johnny and Dally and now it's my turn. Dally's heater is what I'm gonna use, so it'll have some sort of sentimental value. I know it's not good to go like this, but it's the only way I can think of. Just know as I raise the gun to my head and pull the trigger, that I'm sorry. For everything. I can't help the tears that fall, I really can't in a way I don't want it to end like this. I want one of you guys to swoop in and save the day. But that's not going to happen. At least not this time. Please forgive me...
Ponyboy Michael Curtis"
Sodapop's voice cracked as he read the last of the note left by his younger brother. Tears were freely streaming down his face as he threw it to the ground. "Soda..." Darry started, tears falling from his eyes also. But it was too late. Soda was up out of his seat and out the door in a minute. Steve and Two-Bit remained quiet watching their friend storm out, they had nothing to say. The youngest Curtis brother had killed himself with Dally's missing gun. What words could be said? There were no comforting words that they could say to the Curtis family, the two had lost their parents, best friends and now their little brother.
Steve reached down and picked up the note, reading through it, tears beginning to gather in his eyes. Even Curly who had found Ponyboy was starting to tear up. Tim tried keeping a straight face, knowing crying wasn't his thing but even he couldn't help feel sorrow. Ponyboy had affected everyone's life and now he was gone. At his funeral that last week the whole town had shown up, not for the hero, but for the greaser. The one who they picked on, made fun of, the one who had a heart. And it was their fault he was dead.
"I..." Curly got up and followed suit after Soda, trying to head in the opposite direction. The last greasers sat in silence until Two-Bit who had been holding back tears stood up and walked out of the house quietly, Steve and Tim following soon after leaving Darry sitting by himself. He couldn't believe it, he was still in shock his little brother had killed himself.
Sodapop came back into the house, his eyes puffy and red. "Darry..." He said quietly. "Come 'ere." Was Darry's only response before Soda ran over to him grabbing him into a hug. "Darry he's gone!" "I know... It's only us now, and we're gonna keep it that way, you aren't leaving me too." "I won't leave, ever, I promise..." Soda mumbled letting go of Darry looking up at his older brother. "We're going to be okay Soda, I promise."
A/N
Bet y'all thought I was gone forever! Nope, anyways, hope you enjoyed.
~JKUPCHURCH
