A/N: Yes, it is me, the amazing Dei! And I am writing a tragedy. What a shock. Anyway, this is AU, and I guess you could consider it almost AT, since we are on a different timeline. Anyway, this didn't happen in the sixties; it happened in the spring of 2007, and I just felt like writing something for it. My heart still goes out to the victims.
Disclaimer: Me no own. Wow, that was bad grammar. My Language Arts teacher would kill me.
DARRY POV
Pony's 18 now and in college. He's a bit far from home, but that's okay. He's happy. He decided to major in English and plans to become a teacher if his writing career doesn't work out. Everyone believes that he doesn't need a backup plan though. We all think that he can do it, if he puts forth an effort.
It was about 2 weeks from the date we all agree to meet up at the house. Since Pony went off, he decided to have a tri-monthly meeting. Why every three months, I don't know. I guess he just missed us, even Steve. After Johnny and Dally died, they got closer for some unfathomable reason. I don't know why, but it made Soda happy to see his best friend and his baby brother be able to be in the same room without Pony verbally bitch slapping Steve and without Steve trying to verbally tear Pony's head off. Well, I'll admit, I don't mind meeting Pony every three months. Honestly, I wish it was every week, but Pony would never be able to make that. I'm still afraid of losing him like I lost my mom and dad.
I was relaxing on the porch, reading the paper. It was Tuesday, so that meant it was my day off. I was about to start dozing off in the warm sunlight of the April day, when the door banged open, startling me out of my doze. I turned around to see Soda running to me, yelling.
"Darry! Get in here and look at this!" he yelled before turning on heel and running back through the door. The sheer panic on his face and in his voice sent me into a panic as I stumbled to my feet, nearly falling in my rush.
Two-Bit and Steve were on the couch, looking quite shocked. Soda turned up the volume on the television as I sat down on the couch beside Two-Bit. I recognized the place on the news immediately.
"The death toll continues to rise as paramedics and SWAT arrives on the scene…" a well dressed anchorman droned on while images of people being carried away on stretchers, some with sheets covering their dead bodies, flashed. The lucky (or unlucky, it depends on how you see it) ones were either on stretchers of their own while paramedics rushed to keep them alive, or standing on the sides screaming and crying into phones. Some were just crying by themselves or with others, tears of pure agony streaming down their sorrowful faces. Tears of utter sadness flowed down Soda's face too. We watched in shock and horror as people died right there because there were too many injured and too few medics. More ambulances arrived, accompanied by more police officers. The officers went straight to the central building while the EMTs jumped out of the ambulances, hell bent on saving as many lives as possible. I could swear a few were also crying. 'Maybe they have relatives there too.' I thought absently, 'Maybe their relatives have died…maybe…maybe…'
The anchorman flashed back onto the screen, finally disrupting the stream of disturbing sights. He shuffled his papers as Soda started flat-out sobbing. Two-Bit and Steve were clearly on the verge of breaking down. Hell, so was I.
"This is a true American tragedy, Diane. Don't you agree?" the anchorman intoned. A female anchorman nodded solemnly.
"Yes, yes it is John. More after this." Soda switched off the television. I was about to thank him for it; I couldn't take another of those horrid pictures. Yeah, yeah this was a true American tragedy. You want to know why? Well, it's plain and simple. Who could be one of the century's best authors, Ponyboy Curtis, could be dead.
A/N: Well? Should I continue? What do you think? I love feedback, so please let me know what you think! Oh, and I know cell phones didn't exist in the sixties', but I had to use it. I'm sorry if that offends you.
