I do not own The Outsiders.
"Get out!"
You watch your son make his way towards the door, limping as he goes. As a mother, you are supposed to love and care for your child. As a mother, you are supposed to nurture him. Take him into your arms and ask, "Are you alright? What on Earth happened to you?"
But you don't. You, in fact, are the one screaming at him. You don't take him into your arms and give him all of your love. Instead, you scream at him and watch as his father beats him. You tell him just how stupid and worthless he is, how he ruined your life, how he'll never get anywhere.
You tell him that you hate him.
He deserved all your hate. It was his fault, after all, that you were stuck in this dead end life. If he hadn't come along, you'd be happy. You would be married to a wealthy man, one who could buy you everything you ever wanted. You wouldn't be stuck in this stupid town. Instead, you'd be in California living the life you always dreamed of. You would have beautiful children who never got into any trouble. Unlike him. He got into so much trouble with his hoodlum friends that you were surprised he was even still alive.
In another life, your children would be smart. They wouldn't be as stupid as he was. They would get all A's, just like his friend. They would dress properly and they'd have proper friends.
You could only dream of such a life. In reality, you were stuck with a husband who did nothing but work and drink. Your son was a stupid,worthless hoodlum who would wind up dead before he turned eighteen. And you? You were filled with such a deep, intense hatred for everything around you. And so you drank. You fought with your husband. You paid no attention to your son, and when you did, it was to holler at him.
But what did you care? Johnathan deserved it.