This is going to be short, emotional, but it will have a happy ending…somewhat. Constructive criticism is loved. I do not own The Outsiders.


I stared above to the omniscient sky, pleading for release from the excessive amount of weight it had cast upon me, hoping that at any moment it would shatter and the dark blue shards would crash down onto me and kill me.

But that did not happen.

I was jarred. The sky didn't fall on me, but the waves of emotions crashed mercilessly down and thus I plummeted into full blown hysteria.

"No, no, no!" I shrieked.

But I was far too late.

Life for me had always been easy and simple, it was a common life. I lived in a peaceful town, in a middle class neighborhood, and I was a perfectly normal little girl who aspired to be a nurse. I outshined my peers in school, getting straight A's, and I never once caused trouble for anyone. I wasn't loud, I was just as shy as a girl should be, but I expressed things through words very well. I had a tight knit group of buddies that I played with, and two parents who loved and cared for me. Had I known my fate, I might've appreciated all of this a bit more.

Well, I had all of that, that was until I started high school. My parents began to argue frequently, and consequently, I was unable to concentrate on my studies. My grades dropped from A's, to C's. I struggled under the watchful eyes of my teachers, who sensed something was going on behind the closed doors of my home, but they never questioned me about it. I suffered through ordeals that were foreign to me. Some nights my father stormed off and didn't return till a week later, and I was forced to be a comfort to my mom as she wailed and shriveled up into a ball on her bed.

I had to learn to take care of myself, which was something that despite my inexperience, I quickly adapted to because of my wit. Emotionally, I felt despair at being neglected by my parents, but after long restless nights of listening to them bicker back and forth, I grew used to that too.

The day I ran away was not like any other. In the past three years, not one day was like the other. Sometimes my dad was home, sometimes he wasn't. Sometimes they argued, others they ignored each other. Sometimes I managed to leave the house and stay with a friend, but most times I was confined to my room, which was cluttered with many medical books, and I studied till the screaming was background noise.

It was my first week of summer. The year after next would be my last year in high school, and then, I could go to college. I would find a job on the side, and work hard till I earned my nursing degree. I'd settle down somewhere far away, find a husband, and start a family.

That was my plan, however, things change. I did not know that this morning the argument my parents had would be of significance to me. I caught my name as I poured my cereal into a bright yellow ceramic bowl. My parents were fussing in the living room, so I ate my breakfast in the dining room, tilting my head slightly to better hear their conversation. It was unusual for them to even attempt to be quiet. My figuring was that they were finally trying to work it out, or maybe they were agreeing to divorce. To my misfortune, it wasn't either of these things.

"What the hell is Ana going to do? She's worked all her life to get into college, and you just throw away her savings like it's nothing!"

My mom's screaming was more hushed that usual, but I still caught what she said. I coughed and sputtered, nearly choking on my cereal with shock at what I'd heard.

"I'll get it back, I just need a few hundred dollars."
When the fighting first began, I interested myself in what it was about, because I wanted the confusion to be cleared, because I thought there was a way I could help. It seemed every argument made less and less sense as they went on, so I began to ignore them. It wasn't uncommon for them to argue about something as ridiculous as a rubber duck.

Then I understood why my mother was so despondent, and why our pantry was hardly stocked. I had guessed that my parents had just become too lazy to go to the grocery, but it seemed now that the case was that we didn't have enough money to get more food if we wanted to. My dad was gambling, and it was most likely so he could afford more drugs.

I slammed my bowl down on the table, and it met the wood with a harsh cling. Milk splattered everywhere. My parents heard this, and became silent.

"My college savings?" I growled, placing my hands on my hips. I stared at them both with menacing hate and disgust. They looked mildly ashamed of themselves, and bowed their heads under my gaze. My father shoved his shaking hands in his pockets.

"What am I going to do?" I shrieked at them, throwing my hands above my head, twisting my fingers into my hair. I received no answer. My clenched fists quivered with anger, and my head shook slowly as I closed my eyes, willing myself to be composed. I couldn't let myself become bitter like they had.

My mother peered up at last, hesitantly, removing a stray blond hair from her face and tucking it behind her ear. Her blue eyes, which had a permanent shadow beneath them, begged me for forgiveness. My dad's face bore no emotion. He was not my dad anymore; he hadn't been for years. My mother still clung to him, my mother was letting him drag her down, and I had to watch.

I left the room. The moment I shut my bedroom door behind me the fighting resumed. I cried silently whilst I pulled my suitcase out from under my bed and packed the essentials. This was something I had prepared years ago, when the fighting first began. There was money, an old pack of crackers, and a water bottle already waiting for me. Once my clothes were neatly folded, I filled the water bottle up in the bathroom and tucked it in my bag when I returned to the room. I counted my money. Two hundred dollars. I had won it in an essay competition and had saved it for an emergency, though I had never expected it to fulfill the purpose that it would.

With my suitcase in hand, I climbed out the window, trying to remember if I'd forgotten anything. When I boarded the bus in town, I was overcome with a flood of memories from a distant, blissful past, and I sobbed till I couldn't breathe over the loss of the past and the future.