Better Left Unspoken
Disclaimer: Do I look like I own The Outsiders? S.E. Hinton is the real owner of The Outsiders, and I do not make any money off of my stories.
A/N: Tell me what you thought, please! Criticism is welcome, but no flames. Flames killed Johnny. ;) Suggestions are always welcome, no matter what they might be. Thank you!
Summary: At just seventeen, Ponyboy's dead, and in an unfortunate chain of events, it may just be Darry's fault. But all that the gang really knows is that nothing will ever be the same again.
Darry ~Fall,1969~
Mechanically, I threw my dirty, muddy construction boots on the porch outside and walked inside the lonely house.
So much had changed...
"Stop treating my like I'm a kid, Darry. I'm seventeen years old, you can't keep treating me like this. I'm almost an adult."
The front door slammed shut, signaling someone's arrival or departure, and I was shocked to find that it was Sodapop coming through the front door.
"Hey, little buddy," came my voice. Soda nodded a simple greeting, throwing his jacket over the arm of the worn-out, lumpy chair and heading towards the kitchen silently. He didn't bring it up and I was glad for that, but I couldn't ignore the emptiness in the house with only two members living inside of it's walls, not counting the gang's remaining members, who use to frequently stay over, but their visits had become less and less frequent.
"Are you fixing dinner, Soda?"
"Yeah," he hollered. "Mac 'n Cheese sound good?"
"Good enough," I yelled back to him, picking up the newspaper, but not reading it.
The house was quiet enough until Two-Bit came bounding through the front door, very buzzed, but not completely drunk yet, but it was beginning to hit him.
"Hello, boys," he grinned stupidly, throwing his hand up as a wave and flopping down onto the couch next to me.
"Drunk again, Two-Bit?" Soda shook his head. Two-Bit stared at the ceiling with precise speculation and curiosity, as if the answer to the universe was written up there.
"Dinner's ready, Superman," Sodapop stuck his head through the doorway between the living room and kitchen.
"Darry! I made dinner for you," his voice floated into my head, his face pleading for my pride.
My response sickened me to the core. "Look at this mess, Ponyboy!"
"I'll clean it up, I promise," he was slightly hurt by my angry reaction, but trying not to show it.
I gulped. "I think that I'm gonna head to bed." Again, I was leaving without dinner that my brother had slaved over for me, but I couldn't bring myself to stay in that room any longer.
Once in the privacy of my room, completely alone, I latched onto my pillow for it was the only stable thing I could find, and painfully, I watched as the rumble that was my life, breaking into a million pieces, buried me alive.
A/N: This was just the prologue, and my heart hurt writing this. :( Did anybody else react this way or is it just me? Lol. I'll continue of I get four reviews or more so that I know it is worth it. :)
Chapter Word Count: 568 words
Aufenthalt Gold,
~Alee XxX