Hey, yall. I know that I post a lot of one-shots on here, but for those of you who do like my stories, I'm working on one that's hopefully going to be 10 chapters long, if not longer. Oh, and it may have a sequel so stay tuned.
I just wanted to post this, though, before I have to do schoolwork (started back today, I'm 21 and finally getting around to college, but better late than never, right?)
Peace out, and enjoy.
I heard the scream while I was still asleep, and then I woke with a start. I sat straight up in bed, trying to catch my breath.
Dammit, not again, I thought wearily. The poor kid had been up every night this week with night terrors. And every night, I would go to his room and try to comfort him. It worked of course, for that night. But the next night they just came back. It had to be PTSD, there was no other explanation. Ponyboy had never had nightmares as often as he was now. Of course, everyone has them every once in a while. Even I had them. But he had never woken up screaming, like he does now. The strangest part was, he never could remember what they were about. Which both scared and frustrated me. I had no idea how to fix it if I didn't even know what was scaring him so bad. It had only been a month since our parents died, and I hoped after some time maybe it would calm down. But that didn't really help at the present time. Pony was frightened of something, and I wanted to find out what.
I pulled the covers off my legs, and wrapped a blanket around my shoulders. It was freezing in the house; these days, we rarely ever turned the heat on, especially not at night since we could just pile on the extra blankets. Anything we could do to save money..
It shouldn't have to be like this, I thought bitterly. I wanted to scream in frustration. I was mad at the world. I wasn't gonna be like Dallas Winston, but dammit, why us? We were just kids.. If only I had of stopped them..No, there was no way I could of known. Still, the thought entered my head pretty regularly. The thought that maybe I could have kept my parents home that night. If I had, they wouldn't have died.
Things had gotten rougher since the day after the funeral. Don't get me wrong, living on the East side, things were tough from the get-go. I mean, we had it pretty good here. We always had clothes to wear, food to eat, a roof over our heads.. But there was hardly anything leftover. We couldn't afford things like Mustangs or fancy get-up. Not that I'd be caught dead wearing fancy get-up, but I would kill for a Mustang. Hell, I'd kill for any car, to be honest.
I wouldn't dare complain now, though. Darry was head of the household, being the oldest, but he needed my help. So I had to put aside the things I wanted and help Darry keep the roof over our heads and food on the table and clothes on our backs. Which, come to find out, is no easy feat.
When I got to Ponyboy's room I knocked softly on the door. Without waiting for a response, I slowly opened it and made my way towards his bed. It was dark, but from the light of the moon shining in the window, I could see him curled up on the bed.
"Ponyboy?" I lay a hand on his shoulder and sat down. "Hey, kid, are you okay?"
He shook his head, then whimpered. I could see the wet trails running down his cheeks. I took him by the shoulders and pulled him into my lap, then wrapped my arms around him. I rocked back and forth as we sat there, and I rested my chin on top of his head. I could smell the shampoo from the shower he had gotten earlier. I stroked the soft strands with my fingers.
"Soda," Ponyboy finally broke the silence. "You don't have to keep coming in here to check on me."
I knew he felt bad, because he said this every night that I had come in here. I didn't do it because I felt I had to, I wanted to. I loved my baby brother, and I wanted to keep him safe. He was so young and innocent, and I couldn't imagine going through all this at his age. I was sixteen, and would be seventeen in seven months, and it hurt like hell to lose my parents. But Ponyboy would be fourteen in July, and well, I had my parents when I was fourteen. I was close to being an adult, Pony was just a child.
"Hush now," I said gently, still rocking him. I could tell he was getting sleepy. I laid him back on the bed and wrapped the sheets around him. Then I took the blanket I had brought off my shoulders and wrapped it around him as well.
"Thanks, Soda," he said sleepily. He started to shut his eyes. "Soda.."
"Yeah, kid?" I asked as I brushed the long hair from his forehead.
"Don't leave me."
I had an idea, but I wanted to run it across Ponyboy before I went through with it. He liked having his space, I understood, but the nightmares were keeping him awake almost every night. Then they were scaring the daylights out of me. Not that I was upset with him, he couldn't help it, but still, he needed to sleep through the night. He would start to fall behind in class.
"I won't, Pony. Hey, would you like it if I started sleeping with you every night?"
Without hesitation, he nodded his head yes. I smiled, knowing that now I could help my brother through his pain, and maybe he wouldn't have bad dreams anymore.
"Okay, then. Scoot over."
I slid in under the sheets. Pony turned on his side towards me so that his face was buried in my chest, and I wrapped my arms around his small form. He settled against me, and closed his eyes. I gently kissed his forehead, and gently squeezed him.
"I love you, kiddo."
"I love you too, Soda."
