My parents died in a car accident a year ago. After their death, Johnny and Dally died. Johnny died a hero and Dally a hood. Ever since then I've been going through some problems. My grades started to drop and I've been finding it quite hard to focus. My Aunt Cathy blames it on Darry because of the neighborhood we live in. Cathy moved away when I was born because of all the gangs and violence. She moved to Montana in the middle of nowhere where it was "safe." She blames Darry for everything because she doesn't think he's capable of raising me. They have been battling each other ever since mom and dad died. Well, a month ago, Cathy won the fight and forced me to come live with her.
At first, I thought it would be a good idea to get away from all the stress at home. Darry and I had been fighting an awful lot lately. It's been eating at Soda having to listen to us fight. Steve and Two-Bit weren't much help either. Two-Bit has been getting more drunk than usual and Steve was just Steve.
The Socs had been out for me ever since Bob died. No one will talk to me anymore. I don't have any friends outside of the gang and other Greasers. People that I used to talk to won't even look me in the eye. They all avoid eye contact with me and think being associated to Bob's killing is a disease you can catch, like I'm some kind of bad person. I wish I could say I'm the same old Ponyboy. I'm still Pony, but I'm merely a shadow of the innocent grease ball I used to be. Aunt Cathy is part of the reason I don't feel like myself anymore.
I wake up at 4:30 every day. I get ready for school and eat breakfast and then Cathy drives me to school. It takes an hour to get there. I go to school then Cathy picks me up. She takes me to her job and I do my homework in the desk right next to her. Then we go to her second job. After work, we go home and eat dinner. I have an hour of TV time before bed. I repeat my day over and over again every school day then on weekend I'm not allowed to leave the house. I have no privacy. Cathy checks everything. I can't have a conversation over the phone with Darry or Soda without Cathy standing right there and telling me what to say.
Cathy is starting to dress like my mom. She talks like her, too. My mom had a Tulsa accent while Cathy used to have a Montana accent. Now Cathy speaks in an obviously fake southern drawl. Cathy also talks about mom constantly. I love my mother, but I don't want to talk about her 24/7. I get that Cathy is still coping, she was my mom's sister and I'm still coping too, but it's been almost two years. It's time to move on. I would like to have a conversation that didn't revolve around my mother. Cathy even has a room dedicated to my mother.
In every room, there's a picture of my mother. Sometimes when I'm trying to fall asleep late at night, I feel like the picture is staring at me. It's one of those pictures where you feel their eyes following you. Cathy yells at me if I turn the picture away because I'm not "honoring my mother properly."
In Cathy's shrine, all the pictures that were supposed to be the entire family have the faces cut out except my mom's. Darry, Soda, my dad, and I are all cut out of the picture. On Cathy's ceiling in her bedroom, there's a blown up picture of my mother's face. Sometimes when I go in there, Cathy is just laying on her bed staring up at my mom's face.
Before I leave the house in the morning, Cathy has to check my room. She goes through all of my stuff, tells me which books to read, takes my pictures of the gang and my brothers, takes all of my clothes and makes me dress like a Soc, and makes me pass a drugs test. I haven't had a smoke in a month. I've told Darry many times that I want to go home, but Cathy won't let me. I'm afraid I might never see my brothers again.