*I don't own The Outsiders.

Summary: I was there. I heard them scream. I felt their pain. I watched until they were nothing but corpses.

Basically a 'what if' type of story, about Pony being in the car the night his parents got into the car accident, and how Soda and Darry would deal with the funeral, the State, and their brother.


(Third Person POV)

Pain-intense enough that black spots float through his vision, making the buildings slant at impossible angles, they seem to sway like trees stuck in the wind.

Red paints the boy's vision, further disfiguring his sense of vision.

The blood is warm and sticky; it runs down the side of his face, his arms, his entire body. Shards of glass are sticking straight up out of his jeans.

It's quiet. The boy can't hear anything except the thudding of his heart, like horse hooves as they canter down a pathway.

It's only silent for a moment.

He wishes it stayed silent.

Screams hit his ears, and he's shocked when he realizes one of them belongs to him. The other is his Mother. He struggles to focus my eyes on her; her golden hair is tangled with red blood that seems to keep seeping down the usually bouncing strands.

He's horrified to see that the bottom half of her body is swallowed by the dashboard of the car. She's trapped.

He can smell gasoline.

His Father is unconscious. The boy doesn't think he's breathing.

"P-Pony," his Mother whispers.

"It freaking hurts," he cries, salty tears mixing in with a horrifying amount of blood that covers his body.

"I know, baby, but you have to try and open your door," she murmurs, her strength waning quickly.

He's terrified. He's never seen his parents so broken, weak, and he doesn't know if he can move. It hurts to move, it hurts to breathe. He's afraid if he moves, the black dots will take over his vision.

"Please, honey, try for me, open your door," his Mother presses. She has to make sure he gets out. She smell the gasoline too, she knows it's only a matter of time before it catches fire.

His fingers feel thick and clumsy, that on top of his failing vision makes it difficult to grab the handle. He finally gets it, gags slightly at the slick feeling of blood, the rusty smell mixed with gasoline, and the amount of pain his body is trying to deal with.

He yanks, but can't get the door to fall open like it usually does.

"Use the weight of your body," his Mother advises softly.

Somehow he gets the door open, and nearly falls out of the car as the door swings. He could swear that the yellow lines on the road were slithering around like snakes, only he knows that they can't, and it's him imaging things.

"Go outside, Ponyboy, and get away from the car."

"What about you and Dad?" he whispers.

"We'll be there soon, alright. Now please do what I say and I love you and your brothers too," his Mother coos gently.

It scares him to hear her talk like this.

He struggles with his heavy, sluggish body. He stumbles, pitching forward onto his knees. It hurts his body and he thinks he screams again. He drags himself away, towards a sidewalk.

He hears people yelling, someone grabs him, pulling him farther away from the wreck. He glances over his shoulder, there's blood splattered on the windshield of the other car. Both his parents are still. Shouldn't they be following him?

He tries to voice this, but it comes out a sob/grunt of pain.

He hears sizzling. Whoever has a grip on him tightens their arms around his body tightly, painfully tight. There's a loud pop. He can feel the heat.

Both cars are enflamed.

"Mama? Daddy?" He whimpers.

He knows their gone.

There's more yelling, more commotion, but he doesn't pay attention.

The black spots take over his vision completely.


This idea has been in my head for awhile, and I had to write it down. So, what do you think? Should I continue?

Please review!