Disclaimer: I do not own the Outsiders
"It's great that you finally let Soda get back into rodeo riding Darry," Ponyboy says as he walks toward me with his hands filled with popcorn and sodas. He sideways slides down the aisle toward me, avoiding other peoples' legs as best he can.
The sound system crackles on at that moment. "Our next contender is Sodapop Curtis from Tulsa," the announcer drawls. Ponyboy and I applaud loudly as Sodapop shoots through the gates on a very large, very angry bronc. My stomach twists suddenly, and I wonder why I had ever agreed to this in the first place. The frothing bronc is jerking around too fast. With a final buck, my little brother careens over its head. I start to run toward him even though I know it's too late. His eyes are now eternally wide open; I can see his irises turning white.
"We trusted him to you Darrel." I turn and see my parents standing in the crowd. Instead of the caring, understanding expressions I saw everyday in my childhood, they are angry and disappointed.
"I never asked to be," I say defensively.
"Be what?"
"Be YOU!" I scream in frustration. I leap to attack my father angrily, but I can never seem to get close enough.
"Take care of what you have left," my mother says. "It's what is expected in this family."
I turn around abruptly and search the crowd for Ponyboy. I locate him standing amongst a group of druggies and hoods. He is holding a package of acid in his hand.
I stand still and watch as one of the hoods pulls out a knife and stabs my youngest brother in the heart. I wrench around to see what my parents are doing about this, but they have disappeared. I turn and run as fast as I am able toward Ponyboy. I vaguely notice that I'm wearing my olive jeans, a black muscle t-shirt, and for some reason, my slippers adorn my feet. I drop to the ground next to Ponyboy. His face is deathly white. To my horror, there is blood covering his entire body.
"Stay alive for me baby," I plead in vain as I cradle him in my arms. Tears cascade down my face and neck. I look down and notice that my slippers are covered in Ponyboy's blood.
My eyes snap open. I'm back in the real world, and for the moment I am grateful.
Beads of perspiration trickle down my already damp skin. I count my breathing in an effort to control my frantic panting; the last side effect of my midnight terrors.
In, 2, 3, 4. Out, 2, 3, 4. My lungs ache to cry out for the comfort of a mother that will never come.
I look at the clock; a quarter 'til 2. I can squeeze in four more hours of sleep until I have to endure another day of watching and worrying over the two lives I've been assigned to protect. And to do my job means be strong all the time; to never let down my guard. This is why I can show weakness only in my sleep.
My breathing has returned to normal by this time along with my jitters. I throw the covers off my body. I turn in the bed and let my feet slip into the worn slippers resting by the bedside. They were the slippers once owned by my father. The slippers that ran to catch Soda for bath time and softly walked to soothe a baby Pony to sleep now belong to me. They are big slippers to fill.
I softly walk down the hall and I slowly crack open the door of my brothers' room. For a couple minutes I stand by the door, watching them sleep. At night I know where they are and who they are with; it is during the daylight hours that I truly fret on the inside. This is my own personal hell that nobody but me will ever truly understand. Soda tries to, but he will never be able to grasp it fully.
Ponybody is sleeping peacefully, which makes my heart glad. If his nightmares are as bad as mine, they are enough to make blood run cold. He is blessed in the fact that he can't remember his nightmares like I can. His are gone in the morning while mine follow and taunt me every moment of every day. Soda is sleeping sideways with an arm thrown around Pony. I can only hope that if anything ever happens to me, he will have the strength it takes to fill my father's slippers too.
Darry is (in my opinion) the most complex character in the entire book. In this one-shot I only scratched the surface of that complexity. I like it, but I'm not sure if I really expressed fully what I am trying to say with this. I really need critiques and suggestions to help me make my writing better.