a weird fic...

read and review please...

Cynthia smiled and let out a shriek of giggles. This was going to be so

much fun! The other passengers on the train glared at her like she was

crazy, and though she was accustomed to those looks, she still twisted up

her mouth and screamed a string of cuss words at them. Crazy looks turned

into horrified looks. Resuming her smile, she lay her head against the

window and shut her eyes. She could almost see him...

"Ma'am?" Blinking, she looked at the man in the standard unifrom of the

train personnel who was hunched over it.

"How far is it to Tulsa?" She asked with a frown.

"Ma'am?" He said puzzled. "200 miles, but I had a couple'a of complaints

from the people around you."

"Yes?"

"Can you quiet down some, ma'am?" He said slowly.

"Oh, but I wasn't doing anything! You saw me, sitting here trying to

sleep!"

"Ma'am, please..."

"Oh, fine. Just let me sleep. That's all I wanted in the first place, you

know.

"O-kay." Wrinkling his forehead, the man went off to resume his position

of mopping the bathroom floor.

Yawning, she closed her eyes again and happily remembered.

~*~*

It had just rained. Pale lights reflected off of the dying mist and water

slipped into the gutters. One boy, slowly inhaling his last cigarette,

leaned against a cracked building. He had twenty minutes left in New York

City.

His solitude was interrupted by a girl approaching him, humming while

twirling her umbrella. "Christ! What the fuck are you doing here?" He

scowled. Ooooooh...wasn't he so cute? She thought. Reactively, she brushed

her hand across the side of his face, but he pushed it off.

"I wanted to see you before you left. I'll miss you so much, really I

will."

"Yeah well, the state found out I had parents so they're shipping me off

to them."

"Oh, how wonderful! You'll finally have a real home off the streets!"

"Listen lady, shut-up before I clock you. My parents are bums and I ran

away when I was eight."

"That's so sad. I think you should stay here with me."



He rolled his eyes, but he was almost getting used to her. She hung around

all the time, the crazy bat. Man, you sleep with a girl a few times and she

thinks you're hers for good.

"Well I can't, thank God." Dally was gonna miss New York, but he sure

wasn't gonna miss her.

~*~*

Cynthia went flying into the seat in front of her. Swearing it was the

guy who had bothered her earlier come back to torment her, she clenched her

teeth and swung around. The passengers were getting out of their seats, but

not because they wanted to move away from her. The train had stopped, and

they were getting off. The sudden movement had made her fall.

Collecting herself and her battered luggage, Cynthia pushed through the

people-getting flustered looks as she did-so she could get off quicker. The

wind hit her hard when she stepped out. Her black jacket, stuck on over her

pink dress, would come in handy against the cold.

"Why is it so quiet?" She wondered out loud immediatedly. It was; the

only sounds were the shuffling of passengers and the voice of train

whistles. Glancing down the surrounding alleys, it became apparent that

they were empty. It figured that Tulsa wouldn't be as wild as New York ,

but was it this dull?

Cynthia walked down an alley just to really see if there was no one

around. No one jumped out and demanded money. With a sigh she headed down

the side of a busy street that weaved through the city and twenty minutes

passed before she saw another person face-to-face. Actually, it was a group

of people-bloody, bruised, half-dead, yet smiling over a hard-won victory.

"Hey, y'all!" She yelled out to them.

They popped their knuckles at the sight of her. She was carrying a purse.

She was a strange looking one, and sure not much to look at. She was suited

in a pink flowery dress. Pink. Flowery. With sandals. Nearly made them as

sick as they felt.

"You're fucking lucky the Shepard gang doesn't beat the shit out of girls."

One said, eyeing her with a snort, while another grabbed her bag. She

wasn't much to look at.

"Whatever. Dally's gonna get you anyways when I tell him you took my

purse."

The gang held back something for a minute while Tim asked a question.

"Dallas Winston? How do you know him?"

"We used to go together."

A fit of laughter erupted. Man, they might have stopped if they could; it

hurt to laugh. It hurt to move their chests. It hurt to walk, even. They

stopped only to hoot the things whipping through their minds. "I KNEW DALLY

HAD BAD TASTE BUT NOT THAT BAD!" "OOOOH, DALLY GOT DESPERATE!" "AND I

THOUGHT SYLVIA WAS THE WORSE HE COULD DO!"