Hello Everyone, this is Kylelover101 with another Outsiders one-shot for: TheFallenRaven.
Warnings: adult situations and self-harm.
I hope you like it :)
-Kylelover101
So I said goodbye to My Mother,
my Father,
my Brothers.
Then I made a promise to my lover
My best friend,
my enemy,
my conscious.
Now I'm stone cold,
Rock old,
My name engraved.
Because I shook hands with an Angel
And a shotgun.
WHACK! Ponyboy Curtis' eyes widened when the long yard stick slammed on his desk. The whole class was now looking at him, including his frowning teacher. Five minutes later he minds himself in front of the school theripst who's holding up his notebook which contained various poems, songs, drawings, small stories and sometimes Johnny and Dallas' names on blank papers.
Ponyboy didn't look up.
"If this is you," The therapist started, pointing to a peculiar drawing of Ponyboy shaking hands with Johnny while an unknown figure behind Ponyboy holds a twelve guage to his head.
"Then who is this?" He pointed to the arm holding the gun. Which was all you could see of the unknown figure.
Darry was there too, he was also shocked but tried his best to keep calm.
Ponyboy didn't reply until, ". . . Another boy."
The Therapist nodded. "Who?"
Ponyboy looked confused. "Doesn't have to have a name, ya' know."
The therapist threw up his hands, allowing the notebook to land on his desk. "Well, Ponyboy. How about I write you a pass tomorrow so we can find out this boy's name, huh?" He gave off a smile and Ponyboy scowled.
"No. I have a test tomorrow."
"Ponyboy, you'll listen to this man." Darry sternly spoke. "Will this cost anything?"
"Nope, just a friendly chat."
Ponyboy reached for his notebook, but the sleeves on his jacket rolled up his arms, exposing the various scars and fresh cuts on his arms.
Darry gasped, looking frightened.
The Therapist snatched the Journal from Pony. "I'll just look at this tonight."
Soda brushed away Ponyboy's stray hairs on his head, loosening his collar.
"I can dress myself." Ponyboy growled.
"Oh yeah?" Soda smiled. "Well, you can also cut yourself."
Ponyboy wanted to cry, ever since they found out about that, they wouldn't let Ponyboy out of their sights. Ponyboy was ALWAYS watched. Not to mention Soda was more stern with Ponyboy. Almost like he was a grown up.
". . . Are you mad?" Ponyboy whispered.
Soda shook his head. "No baby, just-"
Ponyboy waited.
"I'm disappointed, in myself." Soda trailed off.
Pony never felt more guiltier.
"Keeping-a-close-eye" was what Darry said: "You're on lock-down" is what he meant.
Not allowed to leave the house, unsupervised. Not allowed to write in a journal unless Darry can look over it. Not allowed to watch depressing or sad movies or TV shows. On top of that, he was given a bedtime.
Ponyboy hadn't had one of those since he was eleven. When he hit the age of twelve he started sleeping whenever he wanted. Mr. Curtis didn't mind as long as he was at school on time, but Mrs. Curtis would bite her lip when she saw his bedroom light still on at eleven o' clock at night.
"It's past seven-thirty, Ponyboy. Take a bath then, go to bed." Darry muttered, putting his newspaper down.
Ponyboy slammed his pencil down. "No, Darry!"
Darry gave off a murderous look while Ponyboy glared. It had been two weeks since the journal incident and Ponyboy was fed up.
"Com'on Pony. I'm a little tired, let's hit the hay a little early tonight." Soda softly spoke. Ponyboy looked appalled that Soda was siding with Darry, but nevertheless, he slammed his math book shut and walked to the bathroom to brush his teeth and wash his face. Since the bathroom had razors, he was watched.
Ponyboy laid in bed with his arms folded. It was that time of year in Tulsa when the sun didn't set until closer to nine and a bedtime at eight with the sun still up, didn't exactly help the greaser fall asleep.
"Aw, Pony. Don't be like that." Soda hushed, he too wasn't the least bit sleepy, but he'd do anything to make sure Ponyboy and Darry didn't fight.
"Like what, Soda? I'm just giddy." Ponyboy snapped.
Soda frowned. "Ponyboy. . . .you scared Darry and me with your poems. We were scared that, you might. .. you know. . . harm yourself."
Ponyboy scowled. "So? I don't care." He lied.
"I think ya' do little buddy. Now, you best shut your little eyes and big brother will rub your back to help you sleep." Soda bribed.
Ponyboy was in too much of a poor mood to take on Soda's offer until he found his eye becoming heavy and Soda's hands creasing his spine.
"No movies, no football, no chocolate cake. You go to school, you come home from school, you do your homework, you do your chores, you go to bed. Am I clear?" Darry ranted, waving a finger at Ponyboy as the little Greaser yawned, staring at Darry with his bag on his back.
"Crystal." Ponyboy rolled his eyes.
"Don't you have an attitude with me-HEY!" The door slammed before Darry could finish. Soda sighed, sitting in front of the TV with Two-Bit.
"What's eating him? Puberty or something?" Two-bit asked.
"Oh, yeah I wish it was, Two-Bit," Soda laughed. "They Ponyboy and I could talk about girls and cars."
"He won't live to see puberty if he cocks that attitude with me again." Darry growled, grabbing his tool belt and box, getting ready for work.
Soda sighed, "Darry. I think we need to trust him more. I mean, the poor kid is going to crack if he doesn't have any chocolate cake soon."
While walking to school, Ponyboy whipped away the crumbs of chocolate cake he snatched behind Darry's back. He'd die if he didn't have chocolate at least once this week. It wasn't like he could go out and buy some, he was too poor to have an allowance and Darry wouldn't buy him sweets if it was his last day on Earth.
Ponyboy let out a belch as he entered the school, seeing his friends. Just as he was about to approach them, he was stopped.
"Morning, Mr. Curtis. Won't you see me in my office?" Ponyboy hated therapists.
"And you're getting enough sleep? Enough food? How about school work, is that coming along well?" Endless, hollow questions Ponyboy didn't care about were spat at him each morning before and after school.
When Ponyboy didn't answer The fat-excuse for a school therapist stood up. "Alright, Mr. Curtis. How about a notebook check?"
"Where's your warrant?" Ponyboy smirked, acting bold.
The therapist pointed to his diploma hanging on the wall, next to it was a school signature permit to check students' bags. Ponyboy groaned handing over his bag. He was thankful for a desk at home where he had five notebooks to write in waiting for him to come home for a blissful thirty-minute span before Darry or Soda came home.
"Well, Mr. Curtis, I'm glad you're holding up your end of the bargain. Now, may I have an arm check?"
Ponyboy slowly rolled up his jacket sleeves, reveling no fresh wounds, but scars.
"Ponyboy, what would you like to talk about today?"
Ponyboy didn't reply. They sat waiting to stare at each other until the five-minute warning bell rang. The therapist sighed. "You're excused."
This was usually the highlight of Pony's day, leaving that office.
Soda sighed, seeing the notebooks hidden away in Pony's desk. His hunch as to why Ponyboy spent so much time there "doing homework" paid off. Reading the horrible poems, the deadly songs, seeing the graphic pictures wanted to make Soda burn the books, he wanted to rip them, throw them away so he could protect his baby brother.
But, how do you save someone from themselves?
Soda smiled, coming up with a brilliant plan. He reached over to Pony's colorful colored pencils, using only the brightest and cheeriest colors. He smiled and couldn't wait until Ponyboy came home.
Ponyboy traced his fingers along the edge of the pages, his eyes wide seeing the scribbles and cross outs.
"You're beautiful."
"You're talented."
"You're special."
"You'll do great things."
"You're my sunshine."
"Mom and Dad. Darry and myself. Johnny and Dallas. We all care about you, Ponyboy."
Ponyboy felt tears come to his eyes and for the first time in a long time, he put down the razor. He threw out his suicidal notebooks, he tossed his bloody pencils and kicked his morbid drawings.
Then he smiled, opening the windows to gaze at the sunset.
Like always there'd be a sunrise tomorrow.
And Ponyboy Curtis, would Stay Gold.
Too Dark? Or too gold? I want to thank Raven for being such a wonderful friend and I hope you enjoyed this fic.
Reviews are wanted and adored.
-Kylelover101.