-Well, I felt like taking a very brief break from my other stories and writing something a little different. This story is based on actual events, though not to the letter, of a part of my life. I applied the situation to The Outsiders after the book and the death of Johnny and Dally. Ponyboy is going through the loss of his best friends, and the gang are trying to deal with their deaths and Pony's grief and attitude problems. This is ANGST, so if you are looking for romance you'll have to take a look at my other stories. Sorry but I needed to get this out. Dedicated to my late best friend Ivan. May you rest in peace.

In the End

It had been a month since the death of my friends. Thirty-one days of pure, unadulterated hell. I feel their loss as keenly as I did the day they left; I see them in my mind every minute of every day. I dream of them, of how things could have been different, how I could have changed the outcome.

Darry and Soda have noticed the changes; I've become withdrawn, colder, more guarded. I've become Dally and I know this frightens them. I get into fights, curse more, smoke more than I ever did. Even Two Bit and Steve are worried about me. Now that's a surprise, Steve Randle worried about Ponyboy Curtis, the boy he dislikes with a passion. All of them watch me, keeping their eyes glued to me when they think I'm not looking. I know they think I'm gonna blow….and you know what? I probably will one day.

When my parents died I remember someone saying that there were several stages of grief and that, in time, I would get over it. Well, it's been over a year and now, adding Dally and Johnny to my list of losses, has only made me feel it more. For days I denied their deaths, believing if I did they would come back. After I finally admitted to myself they were gone I went into the crying stage and along with that came my nightmares. Now I'm in the anger stage, snapping and snarling at every little thing.

I know this is not healthy, but I just don't care. Nothing will bring them back and that's what is killing me inside. Before their deaths I was the dreamer, the soft spoken, gentle hearted young greaser who would do anything for his friends. Now that they're gone I've changed, I no longer dream and, as I said earlier, I've become another Dally. I'm determined not to hurt like this again and I believe Dally was onto something when he said if you get tough you can't get hurt. Problem is, I'm already hurt and I'm dying inside.

I have thought of killing myself, of course, but I can't bring myself to do it. As much as I long to see my friends again I know it won't solve anything. So instead I rant and rave, raging against fate and cursing whatever deity took them away from me.

I told Cherry Valance once, the night that started all this, that Dally was my buddy and I stood up for him in front of her. Well, that was an understatement. Dally was more than my buddy, he was my best friend, my older brother. I never knew how much those two meant to me until they were gone, and now the pain of their loss is unbearable. Even writing about them doesn't help, it only makes me miss them more, and it brings back all the memories, good and bad, and brings on the crying jags. When that happens I get all the more irritable and I know I'm hurting what's left of my family, but I can't seem to help it.

Now that they're gone I hang around home more, staying in instead of going out. I feel bad because now Soda, and thus Steve, stay in to keep an eye on me. Steve and I have been getting along a little better, I guess because now I'm no longer the 'tag along little brother'. He's actually been nice, going so far as to have an actual, no insults conversation. I'm surprised, but I can't bring myself to care about much. I have lost the energy to even muster up the former feeling of hate for my one time rival. The only feelings left to me are anger and grief, intermingled and ever present. Maybe one day I'll get over this, but I know they'll never leave completely. I just hope that I never have to go through this again, which is why I'm pushing everyone, even my brothers, away.

Grief is a crippling emotion, numbing you to anything but the pain. All you can see, all you can hear or feel, is the memories and the pain of their last moments. You see them as they died, right in front of you. It's the knowing that kills you; knowing you couldn't have prevented it, but also hating yourself for not doing so. You think of the could have's and the should have's and you despise yourself for not doing anything to prevent this. But hindsight is 20/20 and fate is a bitch. Maybe one day I'll get it right in my head, save them from their fate in my dreams, and in the light of day, I'll only hate myself more.

-I told you, a short vignette. I know it's not the best, but I wanted to get it out, exercise my demons so to speak. The title of this is from a song by Linkin Park, In the End. The last paragraph is sort of based on an episode of Buffy, where Spike told her every night he saved her. I felt like this when my friend died, I saved him in my dreams, but in the morning you only hate yourself more because you couldn't really save them. I'm sorry if this wasn't what you were expecting but please read and review anyway. I'll be updating my other two stories shortly. Thanks to my loyal readers and I hope ya'll have a good 4th of July.