AN: This was actually an essay I wrote for school but I edited and made it into a story. I was inspired by Pink Floyd's song Wish You Were Here Hence the name. It's been a long time since I've written anything so I'm a little rusty and sorry for any grammar mistakes. Thanks.
P.S. I don't own The Outsiders by S.E. Hinton.
Wish You Were Here
I'm pretty sure everyone imagines what death would be like; where we would go, whether or not there really was an afterlife; a heaven or a hell. Sometimes I feel like am dead, because my life is hell. Full of fear, disappointment, anger. I always tell myself there's gotta be someone out there that's got it worse than I do. That's what I always hear from others anyway. But with the life I've had, it's kinda hard believe it. You see, I've dealt with abuse my whole life.
Life at home isn't a very pleasant one. Basically, if you stop outside my house, you'd probably hear my mom hollering at me for some stupid reason like just sitting there on the couch or my dad beating the crap outta me when he's drunk. It's a regular occurrence here at the Cade household. I get beaten and yelled at but it's not uncommon in my town. Violence isn't something new. It's far from new actually.
However, the day I thought would be like any other turned out to be horrific. Now considering what happened, that may be an understatement. It's still hard to describe and pick up the pieces of my life after what happened me. I was broken even after I had healed physically. It's true what they say about how one moment can change your world forever. It was that one moment I realized how truly messed up and out of control the rivalry between socs and greasers was; all because we from the other side of the tracks. Nothing was the same to me anymore. The world was somehow different. It was as if a part of me, a naïve part, was corrupted.
I guess even before what happened I had always been paranoid and nervous, considering the yelling's and the beatings from my folks, it's not much of a surprise. I was never one to show I was hurting inside though, so I kept myself reserved and quiet from other people. Even from my friends who I knew cared about me. I just couldn't help feeling misunderstood. If it was anyone I could open up to it was Pony.
Being the two youngest in the group we were close. But even then I just found myself alone sometimes. Lost and pained. And being from where I am you could never express that to anybody. You had to be tough or you'd get a bad rep for being a softie. So I kept all the bad stuff bottled up. Either way, it was obvious they knew what I went through from all the bruises and scars I had on the outside. But on the inside they'd never known I was hurting. If I do say so myself I did a pretty good job at hiding it.
The night I got jumped I was alone. I had left my house since my folks were arguing and it was torture hearing them so I stormed off. It was late afternoon I knew Ponyboy was over at the DX with Sodapop and Steve, Darry was working, and Dally and Two-bitt were probably out getting drunk. So I decided to wander around town on my own which of course I knew, somewhere in the back of my head, was a bad idea.
I took a shortcut and walked towards the lot. I was thinking I could toss the football around for a while then I'd head over to the Curtis's house afterwards, watch a movie on T.V or something. I noticed there was a blue mustang trailing me when I was only a block away from the lot but I had my guard up. There was no doubt in my mind that they were socs. Then I noticed they had parked beside the side walk and I got real scared. At that point I realized I was a dead man. I thought, no I knew I was gonna get jumped no doubt about it. I stiffened and quickened my pace.
I heard them get out of the car and follow my path. "Hey greaser!" I approached the lot and turned the corner, my heart beating against my ribs. They followed too and I ran for it. Unfortunately my lack of condition from all my smoking caught up with me and they managed to catch up. They had me surrounded two behind me and two in front. I was scared out of my mind but I put up a front. "Wh- what ya doin' ou- out alone greas- greaser" The leader I had guessed, slurred. He was drunk and his scent of strong bitter liquor and stale cologne made my head spin. "A'int your momma gonna be wo- wonderin' where y- you're at?" The others laughed. I was shaking and I swore under my breath.
"Wh- what was that y- you dirty greaser?" he couldn't even stand right he was tilting forward and back. I repeated the profanity again louder. "You w-orthless hood!" he swung at me and hit my jaw, I yelped. The others to joined in. They all took turns swinging at me until they finally knocked me down and kicked me all over. They were howling like wild animals and I held back tears. Once the kicking stopped, I could vaguely see the leader bend down and slug me more times, his rings scratching my face up while he punched.
My eye began to swell shut and all the scratches on my face burned. My nose was bleeding and the metal tasting liquid made me nauseous. I became disoriented but I heard sirens in the distance I knew they would just pass by and wouldn't do nothing for a hood. Least that's what Dally would always tell me. "Bob, man let's go!" "Yeah the cops are comin!" I groaned and he spat on me and they scatted towards their car. Those cowards. The way they left me, I honestly wish they had killed me. I wanted to scream, I wanted to cry but I had not a drop of energy to do so, so instead, I passed out.
I don't know how much time I had been lying where I was but when I opened my eyes all I could make out were figures and I screamed. I squinted and saw through one eye, since the other was swollen shut, that it was the gang who'd managed to find me. I started crying out of relief, but mostly out of fear. Someone picked me up and held me against their shoulder "Hey Johnnycake." I recognized the voice it was Soda. "Soda?" I croaked. "Yeah, it's me. Don't talk you're gonna be okay." I couldn't relax though even though I was safe with them I was tense and shaky. "A blue Mustang full…I got so scared…" the episode of what had happened repeated in my head and I lost control. I was sobbing and I couldn't stop. "It's okay, Johnny cake, they're gone now. It's okay." They took me back to their place.
These last few weeks have been tough. The Curtis's let me stay at their place till I healed but mostly so I wouldn't face the neglect of my parents. I couldn't sleep. I would wake up screaming. I couldn't eat anything I would just throw it up. I was a wreck. I swore to myself that I'd get revenge on whoever did this to me. I wasn't going to let no one do this to me ever again. They had taken my sense of security away and I knew I would never be the same again and I hated them for doing that.
I still wasn't ready to open up to gang yet because I just didn't want to relive it. I was still coping. Pony suggested I'd write what I was feeling as a release. I told him it was dumb idea but I didn't mean it. I just wasn't much for writing. He brought home a notebook for me a couple days ago and I hadn't opened it till now. I had the house to myself since the others were out working or at school. I sighed, picked up the pen and sorted out my thoughts.
Ponyboy closed the notebook he had found under a pile of his books on his desk curious as it seemed out of place and not belonging to him. He sighed and contemplated what he'd just read. He opened it again and flipped though the notebook and found that to be the only entry written besides a postscript on the last page at the end of the notebook. It read, Pony I left this with you 'cus there's no way I'm takin' it home with me, take care of it for me. I'll write more in it when I have more things to say. I trust you so if you do read this make sure Two-Bit or Dally or Steve Don't get a hold of it. I know they'd give me grief about writing my feelings and everything. Thanks for everything, Johnny Cade.
He sighed again and fought back tears as he read the thoughts of his forever gone friend. Pony closed the notebook and went up to the attic. He unlocked then opened a trunk filled with personal items of his and his deceased parents. He placed it next to the paper he'd written about the gang which was his proudest possession. "Rest in peace Johnny Cade" Pony meant more by those words. It was more than just goodbye. It meant his best friend had finally or more so hopefully found peace. Pony locked the trunk and went back to cleaning the mess in his room.