This story was written (if the fluid eloquence and riveting prose don't make it immediately obvious) in sixth grade, by me. I am aware it won't be the most amazing thing you've ever read, at least I hope not, but please try to keep extremely negative comments to yourself. We're probably all thinking them anyway. Normally I wouldn't mind negativity but bear in mind that luckily my writing has improved since. So constructive criticism is really rather pointless I would think. Positive comments are welcome however, from those of you who can bring yourselves to muster up anything nice to say about it.
Things are different between the Socs and the Greasers. I guess Johnny was wrong. Ever since the rumble it seems like they respect us more. Some Socs and Greasers still hate each other and they'll get into a fight, but the Socs don't beat us up for fun any more. At least, most of them don't.
The gang still hasn't gotten over Johnny's death, or Dally's. I miss Dally a lot more than I thought I would. I expected to miss Johnny that much but not Dally. I finally realized I didn't hate him as much as I thought I had. I always hear people say you never know how much something means to you until it's gone and I never believed them. I do now.
Darry and me get along better now. He still works like crazy, but with Soda working and me working part time on Saturday we get to see each other a lot more than we used to. We also make more money cause Soda got a job roofing houses with Darry.
I'm doing better in school. I wrote all about Johnny and the Greasers in that paper I had to write for English. I ended up getting an A on it. The teacher made copies and handed them out to the class. Our new project is to read it and write a summary, and then explain why you think many books are based on true stories.
I made track. It got a little hard to breathe when I was trying out. I almost asked to go to the nurse. But I didn't, I just tried to drink a lot of water and run just a little slower than usual. The coach didn't notice, he said I was the fastest one there. But then I wondered, "If this is me running slow, how fast can I really run?" I'd never find out if I couldn't breath, so I quit smoking. I didn't really try to quit though. That same night I had a dream that I was living under water and no matter how hard I tried I couldn't come up for air. I guess I scared myself because I haven't smoked since.
Everyone comes to my track meets. Soda, Darry, Two-Bit, and even Cherry. They all sit together and cheer really loud so the people around them either get annoyed or join in. Some things have changed for the better.
Some things have just changed. Two-Bit isn't as funny as he used to be, Soda isn't as carefree. Everyone misses Johnny and Dally probably as much as I do, maybe more. Every Friday everyone comes over and I read parts of Gone with the Wind out of the book Johnny gave me.
There wasn't a funeral for Johnny or Dallas. I don't know if it's because their parents can't afford it or if they didn't want to have a funeral. The gang had had a funeral for both of them. We went to the vacant lot and Darry put two big stones right next to each other and we each said something. None of us would have ever done that before, but we all did it. For Dally and Johnny.