Of all the ways to die, this had to be the worst. Lying in a hospital bed with only a couple of hard, painful, angry years behind him. Johnny could remember a handful of good times in those years, though, not all the moments were bad. If he closed his eyes, and thought hard enough, he could remember a time, a few years ago, when the whole gang went on vacation with the Curtis's.
They rented a big cabin on the ocean, and for two blissful days, the real world was forgotten. Even Dally's smile wasn't as hard looking. They played chicken in the water. The teams were Steve and Soda, Darry and Two-Bit, Mr. Curtis and Ponyboy, then Dally and himself. He and Dally were usually unbeatable, once Johnny had gotten a hang of the game. Mrs. Curtis would always come out to referee, but she didn't need to worry. They would never play dirty against their own.
Johnny let out a breath that made a pang go through his body, wrenching him from the memory. His lips quivered, but he refused to cry out, to give in. He needed to fight! He wasn't ready to die! He couldn't die! There was so much he hadn't done yet, so much left for him to experience. Pain sang through him again, and Johnny knew he wouldn't win.
I wrote this while bored in class. We were watching the Outsiders video, which is a joke. Anyway, I don't own The Outsiders.
~DI4MGZ~
