AN: This is an alternate ending to The Outsiders that I had to do for a school project. Please bear with me since I wrote this really late at night.
I slowly looked up at my English teacher with a serious, cold face. It may have looked like I was glaring, but I really didn't mean to. I just wanted to get away at that moment, because I knew what I was in for.
There was a hint of sadness, or maybe disappointment, in my teacher's eyes. My expression didn't seem to unnerve him, but if it were some other teacher, they would sure be shaking scared due to all the stories about me going around. "Pony, you're failing the class. If you want to pass, the best I can offer you is an assignment for the semester theme. You do that, and I can give you, at best, a C."
I let out a heavy sigh. I already knew that I was messing up badly in class. As if that wasn't hard enough to deal with when so many people treat my so differently these days, like I had become a completely different person. But maybe I have changed...maybe I'm no longer the Ponyboy people remember me as...or the Ponyboy I remember myself as. I found this difficult to swallow, but I tried to push the thought back as I slowly blinked at my teacher. "Yes sir," I said with a quick bob of my head, "What's the theme s'pose to be?"
"Anything you think is important," he answered. He then went to his desk and began organizing papers, and I continued to sit at my desk for a brief moment, thinking about what the theme should be. I tapped my lower lip with my index finger, humming "hmmmmm."
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As hard as I've been trying to get myself together, what was left of my spirit felt like it was ripped apart again as Darry, Soda, and I prepared for the funeral. I felt like I was going to witness Johnny going limp and lifeless again – I just couldn't handle that. I didn't want to faint and get stuck in bed for a whole week again. But this was for Johnny and the last chance I will get to properly honor him. Thinking of Johnny always made me think of Dally after they both...left. I wondered if anyone would ever go to Dally's funeral, or if a funeral will be held for him at all. He deserves the kind of respect Johnny gets too even with all the bad things he's done – he can do the deeds Johnny has done too, and he has. Johnny would have never been known as the person he is now if it weren't for Dally. But Dally died doing what he lived for, and I suppose no one else will look at it any other way. I looked outside and up at the clear blue sky. How do you feel, Dally?
I wore a black jacket and black slacks to match the mood. They were clean, isn't that respectful enough? I greased my hair real good too and arranged each hair as nicely as possible, though it will take a long time before it looked as it did before Johnny cut it. I wondered if it was selfish of me to be so concerned with the way I looked when I should mainly focus on Johnny on this day. I nearly choked on my breath as a tear rolled down my cheek. It was hard to think about the funeral, and I kept trying my best to avoid the thought until it started.
Darry, Soda, and I didn't go until what was left of our gang arrived. We all looked same with our dark clothes and crestfallen faces. Our eyes seemed to stare out into space, as if we were all trying to divert from looking directly at each other for even a single moment. And we were all deathly quiet, even as we starting heading to the funeral. The most that was said were a few mumbled "hello's" and "how are you?'s". We all had the same reason for our behaviors, and we all understood.
There seemed to be so many people at the funeral. I don't Johnny even knew half of the people there. What surprised me most of all was to see his parents there. At first it angered me. Only now do you give some appreciation? My hands clenched into fists. This was probably more like a celebration for them!
But then his mother looked directly at me while patting the corner of her eyes with a tissue. It nearly stopped my heart to see her eyes as reddened as her face. She was the perfect example of how I felt, and possibly if more tortured than me. I nearly fell over, and I noticed I had stopped breathing and froze altogether just to look at her. I stumbled several steps, then took my regular posture with my shoulders slumped and kept moving forward. Gotta look tuff, I thought, but I couldn't help but look back at Johnny's mother. Guilt and pity welled inside me, and I wondered if that was the same, cruel mother Johnny had described many times before.
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"...May The Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit be with you and remain with you...forever," the priest said in a monotonous voice as he made the sign of the cross over Johnny's casket. I was never religious, and neither was the rest of the guys, so I didn't fully understand all the blessings. But it felt almost...mystical listening to the priest, even if he did sound boring at times. To think of some great power that was above us was beyond me, but if there was a heaven, Johnny and Dally better be having a great time up there. I tried to say all the words the people around us did as they prayed with the priest, but most of the time I dozed off, thinking about what things were like for Johnny. Imagining how he used to be a beaten, lost kid twisted and knotted my stomach, but I was surprised it didn't knock me off my feet. The whole time I was fighting against myself to keep standing tall for what felt like years on end even if it was only hours that passed.
I wondered if it was possible to be knocked out with your eyes still opened. It felt like I was just waking up this morning when I focused on the funeral again. I saw Two-Bit in front of all the people, saying his eulogy for Johnny. It took me a minute before I noticed Soda was was nudging my shoulder with his elbow, asking if I had something to say about Johnny. I slowly nodded in response. Of course I did! As soon as Two-Bit stepped down and back into his spot, Soda gave me a light push in front of the audience.
My chest felt like it could explode as my heart pounded. There were more people than I had imagined. I felt so tiny in front of all of them. I had so much to say about Johnny – he's all I've been thinking about the whole time. But as I stood in front of this crowd, my mind went completely blank. I opened and closed my mouth several times. I probably looked like some dumb idiot who was lost up there, but I swallowed hard and managed to say "Johnny."
I stared hard into the center of all the people who came to mourn for Johnny's death, but not in a fierce, angered way, but more like a strong, proud stare. "Johnny...was more than a hero....Most of you here probably know him as...a hero." I gulped again, remembering the burning flames and cracking wood of the church. "I am indeed proud of what he became known as. A silent, defeated kid whose eyes told you everything he's went through, yet he still managed to push his self concerns away for others." Images of the night Bob was murdered flashed through my head, and I bit my lower lip. "I dunno if I would be here or not if it weren't for him. He did what he feared most to save my life..." I decided not mention that he had to kill someone – no one would probably consider that a heroic act. Even if that wasn't the best solution, he still made sure I was safe. "In his last days before he waited on his death bed, he took care of me and lessened my pain as much as possible. He didn't let his shyness or scars him back. He had every reason to hate the world!...But he didn't, he was...the opposite. He was like the child everyone loved, but at the same time, he was the adult who knew what was best..." As I quickly thought of something else to say, I realized that Johnny died the same way Dally did. Johnny died doing what he lived for, just like Dally.
"Johnny died doing what he did best...what he loved best. Even when he was ripped apart, he taped us together – it was like he was made just to do that. He was more than a hero, he was family, a brother." I occurred to me that maybe this could be my theme, and I began to wish oh so hard that I had something to write on. I half-laughed and chuckled, "Stay golden...."
