A/N: S. E. Hinton owns all rights to the characters in The Outsiders and her other stories, I only own my imagination.
A sudden sneeze woke me from a dead sleep, and I flinched when I felt something warm trickle down my face. Flicking my lighter open, I rubbed my hand against my face to reveal blood. Not again, I thought. Since my old man broke my nose a week or so ago, I'd been getting nosebleeds off and on. I looked down at my shirt and grimaced as the thick bloodstains were illuminated by the fire. So much for sleeping tonight, I guess.
I cupped my hands around my mouth so it wouldn't get all over the carpet, not that it would matter much, and stumbled through the darkness into the bathroom. The flickering dim light wasn't the greatest to see by, but I could view the damage. Dried blood was caked around my nostrils and rusty stains formed little rivers across my cheeks. I bet my pillow is quite the sight. I lit a cigarette to steady my hand as I worked to clean up. I hated the sight of blood, but I had no choice. I had to at least get the bleeding under control, or I'd pass out again.
I soaked a rag in the tap water and pressed my fingers firmly on either side of the bridge of my nose. I wiped my face with the rag, feeling lightheaded as blood gushed like a red clay waterfall out of my nostrils and into the sink. Bracing myself against the counter, I coughed up the blood I'd swallowed. Then, I couldn't stop. Everything in my body felt wrong as I retched and bled all over the bathroom, and I turned on a cold shower. Funny, I don't remember wearing my jacket in here.
I woke up in the lot, drenched to the bone from a sudden summer thunderstorm. Even though the air was thick and humid, I shivered as I stumbled to Pony's house. Their couch would be waiting, and I would finally be free of the nightmares. I sniffled a little bit, running my hand beneath my nose, and didn't notice the blood dripping over my fingers.