Hello Readers! I read the Outisders in school and I became obsessed. I have been reading outstanding fan-fictions on this site for a couple of months and I've decided, what the heck, lets write my own! So, without further a do, here's my first sucessful fan-fiction. Sorry if you don't like it! Make sure to review and check out CamRox2010 who is Beta-Reading this story for me!
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Chapter One:
Where I'm from, just walking down the street on a normal day can cause your nerves to fray and your heart to beat two beats faster than normal. During the daytime you didn't have as many worries, because nobody is foolish enough to get caught in the broad daylight, but at night it's like an open war zone. I don't know what I was thinking, walking out here alone, but honestly, I don't think much. I probably wasn't thinking anything. I never do.
Around here in Tulsa, Oklahoma, we're separated into social classes based upon family wealth and money. There are greasers, Socs, and middle class. The rivalry doesn't concern the middle class, which we call mixers, but instead the very top of the chain and the very bottom. It's the opposites who have a personal oath to make the other kind a living hell.
I'm a greaser along with my family. We live on the East side, along with every other greaser. Our side of town was rundown and poor, with hoods wandering the streets and the occasional drunken mustang cruising through to hit it off with a lucky grease. Greasers are stereotyped as being poor and stealing, and believe me, for some that's spot on, but not all of us are like that. Lots of us are just normal people trying to live a normal life and along the way getting dragged in to all this hierarchy bull. We're the ones with all the rough times, the ones who can't live a normal life because most of us don't have supportive parents, or even more common, parents at all. A lot of us come from broken homes, as do I.
The term Soc stands for Social. They live on the West side of town with every other rich kid. They're side is well kept and clean, with money practically burning away in their perfected lawn services and unnecessary dental checkups. They're the so-called Angels of Tulsa, and I can bet against that. Most greasers around here see them as good for nothing brats with too much money that causes snobbish attitude, but I know better than that. I know that if you'd take away there money, there would be so much more lying underneath their perfect image. It's rough all over.
Most of the time, when a group of Socs see a lone greaser walking the streets, they make it their personal game to jump us. It's a normal occurrence that we can't do anything about. Us greasers are like raw meat sitting on a plate unprotected and the Socs are starving, ravenous wolves. Though Socs are intimidating when you're alone, they never jump groups. They know they won't win, for us greasers actually know how to fight, while they win because of their fancy tools. They're too much of cowards to jump four or five of us. They only jump the loners, like me.
I know you must think I'm crazy because out of all I've told you, I still roam the streets of Tulsa alone with no assistance, but I don't care. I'm running away. Not literally, it's not like I'm leaving the state or anything, i just need some time to clear my head. Life over at my place has been much worse lately, what with my dad leaving us along with my only two siblings, nothing's going the way we planned. My mom has taken up alcohol, which makes her heartless at most times. She likes to hit me to let out all of her anger and depression, and I let her. I know she doesn't really mean it. Not only that, but I told my boyfriend I would meet him here because he kept trying to sneak into my house. So I left before he could get in.
Here I was, two-feet away from this large silhouette sitting on the edge of the fountain picking it's nails with what looks like a rust switchblade. The large figure looks up and smiles widely, making my heart race and my head spin, making me wonder if coming out here was such a good idea. He rose slowly and pocketed his switch, probably planning to use it later, and started coming towards me. I slowly backed up until I hit the trunk of a tree, and I was now stuck in between him and the tree. His face was inches away from mine as he mocked my every breath.
"So, I come into your room and you run? What's wrong babe, don't like me anymore?" He started cackling at the stench of fear that was escaping from my body. I kept my head down to avoid his constant gaze, but with Josh, that isn't possible. He reached down and tugged my chin up to face him. I could smell the beer in his voice and breath and it made me shudder internally. He was always drunk now, it was like I was with a walking beer bottle.
"It's not that, my mom told me to get out for a while, I swear!" My words were sloshing around as I spoke, my voice frail and shaky. The look on his face told me he wasn't believing it. He knew I ran out because of him, and I knew that too. I was just hoping he wasn't too drunk. Because if he was, tonight was going to be much worse for me.
He scoffed at my remark and forcefully pulled my head of closer and whispered something in my ear, "Baby, I get it. Promise." I sighed in relief as he took my by the hair and smashed my head against the tree. I yelped and he covered my mouth with his large hand, covering all of my airways. I couldn't breathe already when he punched me in the gut and I heard a deafening crunch as I collapsed to the floor. I double over heaving for air and wrapped my arms around my rib-cage, shaking from the excruciating pain that was radiating inside of me. He started snickering and kicked me in the shin, forcing another yelp to escape from my lips. "Shut up! If anyone hears you, you're dead, savvy?" I only nodded because the pain had become too intense for me to speak.
He yanked me by my arm and dragged me to the car, claiming that we were going somewhere. I wanted so badly to ask where we were going, but I couldn't muster up the energy to, so I kept quiet. Half way to our so-called destination, he leaned over to me and put a hand on my thigh, causing me to visibly wince, but he thankfully didn't notice. "You look good tonight, finally cleaned yourself up for once." I stayed quiet. I wanted to scream at him for being an asshole, but I knew that wouldn't do anything but get me hurt.
All I could think about was the first time he ever layed a hand on me. I was only fourteen at the time, and I thought I could change him. I told him it was okay and that I would help. How foolish I was then, to think that I could save an already dead soul. That I could give it mercy and compassion and receive just the same. Foolish. Pathetic.
He stopped the car and I looked up to see the bright glow of the DX gas-station sign lighting up the night sky. I didn't move from my seat until he dragged me out, leaving harsh bruises on my arm from the tight and forceful grip he was using around my tiny arms. The bell over the front door rang as we walked in and vanished behind a chip rack before the young boy at the counter had time to look up. I had no idea that Josh would ever beat me in a public place, but he claimed that my type of chips were nasty, so he did. He left several scars on my arm from his switch and left me in the corner, bleeding.
I sat in the corner far away from all the commotion of the gas-station and sobbed my little heart out. I heard swift footsteps coming towards me and I shriveled up into my ball even tighter than before, thinking it was Josh coming back. I felt a gentle hand lay on my shoulder and I peeked up from me knees to see the same young boy that was sitting at the counter, now hovering over me. His eyes were warm and chocolaty and complimented his wheat-gold hair perfectly. I stared into his eyes and saw that little twinkle that I hadn't saw in a boy since I was six years old, and realized I was staring into the eyes of Sodapop Curtis.
"Sodapop?"
"Yes, my name is Sodapop, what is your name?" He asked like I was a small child with a memory problem. I started giggling and told him to cut the crap because m name was Rebecca Cooke. His eyes widened into the size of saucers and he hugged me tighter than I've ever been hugged in my life. I was being squeezed so tight I felt like the last little bit of toothpaste. We talked for a minute about how things were until he brought it to my attention that I was still broken and bleeding. "How did all this happen Becca?" I shook my head as if a cue that I didn't want to answer that question and he shrugged, "You're coming back to my place, let me clock out, go wait at the front desk." I nodded and did as I was told because I was so used to doing it when I was with Josh.
Sodapop walked out with another boy who looked at me with a nasty glare, that glare that could only come from my best friend since kindergarten. "Stevie?" I screamed and hugged him tightly. He just stood there and slowly pushed me off. I giggled, "Sorry, you probably don't recognize me. It's me, Rebecca Cooke." His eyes widened and he hugged back just like I did to him. Soda, Steve and I were real close. Just as close as Soda and Pony, who I hoped to meet later. We talked just like me and Sodapop had and we finally reached the Curtis house. Memories started flooding back into my mind and my eyes started watering.
I remembered this place as the only house with a functional family and loving parents. Mr. and Mrs. Curtis were like parents to me, and I couldn't wait to see them again. I wanted to see everyone again! I couldn't wait, I was impatient so I ran past the boys and swung the door open, getting stares and confused looks right at me. I started backing up towards the door. I forgot they wouldn't remember me. Sodapop and Steve finally walked in and noticed the awkward situation and tended to it.
"Don't be such strangers! Guys, this is Rebecca Cooke. She left ten years ago to go to New York with her family?" I got a wave of oh's and everyone's face was now lit up that I was here. I have never felt so wanted in my life. I wanted to greet everybody but Soda brought my into the kitchen and sat me down and came back with a First Aid kit. I looked down at my arm and remembered that Josh had cut me, so he cleaned them up, telling me I was lucky I wasn't going to need stitches. He bandaged my ribs as well and I was finally allowed to roam free around the house.
I said hello to everyone and talked a bit to everyone, but I noticed that Dally was missing. I didn't ask where he was but I did ask about the Curtis parents. Everybody froze and my face fell as I realized what was happening. I mumbled a soft apology and the rest of the time it was awkward. Darry told me to stay here for the night, I insisted against it but he insisted for it, and you don't just mess with Darry. He got much bigger. Apparently Johnny was staying too so we both settled down on the couch, he persisted he take the floor when we'd actually sleep, I of course insisted that he got the couch, because I felt like he was invading, but before I had time to go, he rushed to the floor and set up his blankets and layed down with his elbows propped up and him staring up at me with the goofiest face I've ever seen. I started giggling, but I stopped when he asked what happened to me today.
"Um, nothing. Nothing bad. I'm fine." I couldn't just tell him that my boyfriend beat me, he's Johnny. He gets beat all the time, and is still strong. I couldn't bother Johnny with my pathetic sob story. I can't. I won't. He just shrugged.
"I know how it feels to not want to talk about it. It's alright. Just remember, these people here love you, so never worry about being alone. It took me a while to realize that but after my almost death, which we'll explain later, I know that these people love me. Never forget that."
I sat there baffled as Johnny rolled over and fell asleep. I heart his light snoring and got up and sat at the kitchen table. I knew that I had to stop what was happening to me, because by the time Josh was gone, there would be nothing left of me. With all he does he will have smashed my self esteem to dust and shatter my heart into a million pieces. I couldn't handle it. But I also couldn't do anything about it...
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How did you like it? Is it good so far? I'm re-writing the chapters so I can make my story more to my liking, for I don't think there's enough details and you can't really feel bad for Rebecca. She's just another girl who gets hurt, but you never hear what she feels or what she's like. So sorry for the inconvenience but the only way I will continue this story is if I do this. Review and another thanks to CamRox2010.