As I stepped off the bus I knew Tulsa had not changed; the neon Pepsi sign still hung crookedly in the store across the road, the road was still uneven and dangerous. I zipped up my jacket as the November breeze hit me and headed in the direction of home, well my brothers' house anyway; I didn't know if I still had the privilege to call it home.

It's not really wise to walk around town on your lonesome in the dark (hell even in the daytime) but I hadn't told anyone I was coming back, because I never truly believed that I would. I braved the streets alone, walking in a dream like-state, breathing in the smell of the city, fascinated by the buildings I used to find so mundane. I paused outside Buck Merril's house and smiled: he was still having daily parties, and still listening to the likes of Hank Williams. I wondered how many people I would know in there, whether all the people I knew would have moved on. I doubted it, Tulsa doesn't change much.

It was only early evening but the weather and the travelling had made it feel much later. I was glad I made it to the waste ground without a hint of trouble but my stomach jolted, I could see the house, my house ahead of me. The lights were on and I suddenly became very aware of what I was doing; I was returning home after a leave of four years. Four years of not talking to my brothers, four years of them not knowing if I were dead or alive, four years of them not knowing which they'd rather me to be. What if they didn't want me back, I had put them through hell there was no reason they'd want to see me again.

Realising I needed to gather my thoughts I walked the twenty or so yards to the waste ground and sat down. I lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply. That waste ground had been the backdrop to so much in my life; it was odd sitting in it as though I'd never been away. But I had been away, and a lot had changed in that time. I was now 19, confident, independent and more at ease. I grew up in every sense; I was level-headed and clever, my wit had sharpened and I'd stopped being so bratty. Physically I had become a woman; I had grown another inch or so even though we didn't think it possible since at 15 I was already taller than my mum, the hips that I had willed to come for so long had finally taken form, and the breasts that I had since an early age had softened. My hair was still the same as it ever was if not a bit more styled: it was still mid-length, a mid-brown shade and worn down. My green eyes no longer revealed a deep pit of depression.

I smoked the cigarette right to the butt and stubbed it out in the dirt. I was about to stand when I heard a voice: a voice I knew well but hadn't heard for sometime. It had deepened but it was still distinguishable as my baby brothers'. I peered over the fence to see him talking to another guy I did not know. But I knew my brother, he'd grown up too. He looked exactly how I'd pictured him; tall and broad shouldered like Darry, but kind in face like Soda. His hair was the same colour as my own and flopped around pointlessly. He looked really happy. Tears welled up in my eyes as I realised I couldn't even begin to comprehend how much I had missed out on; he'd grown up and I'd missed it. He passed me as I stood up, I followed about twenty yards behind him and began crying more and more, it got to the point where I could stand it any longer and spluttered, "Ponyboy!"

I wasn't sure I'd actually said it until he turned around. From that distance I could still make out his eyes widening, his mouth dropped and he stood in silence for what seemed an eternity. He approached slowly and I froze; he hated me, I could tell. When he was right in front of me I stood sobbing, it pained me to look at him but I could not turn away. For a moment I wondered if he was going to hit me but then I saw a single tear fall silently from his eye and then his right hand came up to brush my face.

"Charlie?" he whispered. "Is that really you? Are you really here?"

"I'm here baby, I'm here" I cried, staring intently into his now dripping eyes.

I flung my arms around him and squeezed him harder than I thought possible, he reciprocated with twice the force but I didn't care; being in my brothers arms once again was heaven, I never wanted to leave his embrace.

After what seemed ages we pulled apart. Ponyboy turned to the house that was less than 200 yards away, "Do they know you're here?"

"No, I was about to go in" I paused, "Do you all hate me, will they not want me back?"

"We don't hate you, we love you, Charlie! But where have you been? Where!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I always wanted to call, I always wanted to come back I just couldn't!" It was true; I always wanted to go back but I was too scared of reality. I left when our mum and dad died, I couldn't take it.

Ponyboy turned round; the guy he had been talking to had gone. "That was my friend Randy, we go to college together".

"You go to college?" I smiled, he always was the most intelligent of our family, and he deserved the chance to better himself.

"Yeah, just started. I'm gonna be a doctor".

"Oh Ponyboy!" I squealed, "That's fantastic!"

He smiled at me and I could tell how happy he was, it made me happy.

We both stared towards the house. He looked at me, "Right, time to face the music" he said as he grabbed my hand and led me towards the house.