My mother was screaming at me. It wasn't new. My old man wasn't around. I bet he was at a bar. It was the only place he ever went. So my mother was yelling, cussing me out, saying stuff like I was a little shit and useless. I had my head down, just taking it. What was I supposed to do? She wouldn't hit me, she didn't usually, anyway. Sometimes she did, sure, but it was just like a slap across the face, no big deal. Getting hit was more of a big deal if my old man was doing the hitting. See, he got drunk and real mean. He'd use his fists and his belt and once he used a two-by-four. That wasn't fun. It was either that or get ignored.

I looked up at my mother, at her face twisted in anger. I shrugged and took off. What was the point? That made her yell louder, and I could hear my name echoing after me as I headed toward Ponyboy's house.

"Johnny! Get back here! Johnny!"

I shoved my hands in the pockets of my jean jacket and just kept walking, and she stopped yelling. Maybe she'd go in the house and have a drink, if there were any left. As I neared Pony's house I heard some noise, yelling and cars screeching and stuff, but that was normal for this neighborhood. I didn't think anything of it. But then I thought the yelling I heard sounded familiar. I stopped and listened, heard it again, a high pitched scream for help. It was Ponyboy. I felt my heart start beating faster. I knew what was going on right away, I knew what that yell meant. It was the socs. A drunken bunch of them probably hunted him down and were planning on beating the shit out of him. Sure they were.

I took off at a dead run toward all the noise, and I wasn't the only one. Darry and Soda were already there, running the socs off, and I saw Two-bit and Steve, too. The socs were in their car and screeching away, and I even saw Dally hurling a good size rock at their window, trying to break it. Too bad he missed.

Soda and Darry had run back to Ponyboy, who was laying on the ground. I went a little closer and saw him, he was pretty much okay, just shaken up and scared. The socs had got me a while ago and it was pretty bad. This could have been just as bad if everyone hadn't been around. When it was me no one was around.

Ponyboy's parents were dead. They died in a car accident. That sucked. His parents were cool, both of them, they never hit him or nothing, and they were, I don't know. They were supportive, I guess. Not like my parents. I wished I had parents like his but now they were gone. So it was like now, his older brothers were trying to be his parents, in a way. His oldest brother Darry was giving him all these rules and stuff and I knew Ponyboy kind of resented it, but I thought Darry just didn't really know what to do. He was only like 20, and now he had to raise a 13 year old.

Pony was sitting up now, and Soda was wiping the blood away from this cut he got when the socs jumped him. They must have had a blade, they usually did. They did when they beat me up, but they didn't use it, they just threatened me with it, they threatened to slit my throat with it, and I thought they were gonna. After that beating, man, I was so screwed up, not like I wasn't before.

Darry was scowling at Ponyboy, mad at him for walking alone. He knew it was dangerous, but I knew Pony liked to be alone sometimes, watching movies alone and stuff. He was young, like three years younger than me, but he was pretty smart. Not about practical stuff at all, he was the kind of kid who would leave in the freezing weather and forget his jacket and he'd walk alone despite the fact that socs jumped us for kicks. That wasn't the kind of smart I meant. He'd say these off the wall things, stuff from books you'd never heard of and crazy ideas that would make sense in a funny way. I liked to listen to him, especially when we were alone and he'd say that kind of shit. Now me, I wasn't like that at all. I did crappy in school and already flunked a year. I wasn't that much better with practical shit, either. I was barely keeping it together. Sometimes I wasn't keeping it together at all.

I was sitting on the curb, watching Ponyboy try not to cry. He was younger and wanted to seem tough like Darry and Dallas, but getting jumped like that would make you cry. I didn't cry ever, not anymore. My old man had been beating me my entire life and shit just didn't make me cry, except that beating from the socs. It was because it wasn't like it was with my old man. No matter how much he hurt me and stuff he was still my father. And it wasn't all that bad. A few punches and licks with the belt, you know. So what? But those socs nearly killed me and the stuff they said, God. I think I blocked a lot of it out.