A/N: Did this for a school project a long time ago. I know it's been done before but I don't care.
Disclaimer: I don't own The Outsiders or the plotline, or the characters. Dialogue used from pages 56 and 57 of The Outsiders, by S.E. Hinton without permission.
I knew from when we first met Cherry and Marcia that the Socs would be real mad at us, because we took their girls. But we didn't really take their girls. Cherry and Marcia just started talkin' to us. We didn't do nothin'. I could tell that Ponyboy and Cherry kind of had a connection, but I also knew it would never be anything more than that because we're greasers. Socs just don't hang out with greasers. They just don't.
My breathing hitched up in my chest when I saw a blue Mustang. Man, oh man, I wanted a Mustang real bad. It was so, so tuff. The Socs sure are lucky to be able to afford things like that. I fingered my blade in my back pocket, making sure I still had it with me. I almost laughed. Of course I had my blade with me. I wasn't really safe anywhere - with my parents and Socs at every corner. Except at Darry and Soda and Ponyboy's house. The gang's like my brothers, my only family.
Drunken Socs piled out and I immediately saw the glint of that boy's rings off the moonlight. I swallowed thickly. Ponyboy whispered something to me but I just nodded, too spooked to say or do anything else.
Me and Pony hopped off the rusty jungle gym and stood there, our shoulders slouched down, trying to make ourselves look tougher than we were.
A Soc, more specific, the Soc that beat me up real good, trudged out of his car. He scared me. He sort of reminded me of my dad; he was real clumsy whenever he had a lot of booze. I think the Soc's name is Bob. He looked mean and had really dark hair. He told his cronies that we were the greases that stole his women. He was a real jerk, didn't deserve to have that nice girl Cherry.
I tried my best to look menacing. "You're outta your territory," I barked, my voice low. "You'd better watch it."
"Nup, pal, you're the one's who'd better watch it." He called us dirt. I was getting mad, and all I wanted to do was break in to a run.
He turned to us, the shine on his rings sickening. I remembered what those rings did to my face. Left scars. "You know what a greaser is?" he asked us. "White trash with long hair."
I gasped sharply. I looked over at Ponyboy quickly and he looked like he got pounded in the face. That was a low blow. Being an abused greaser you hear quite a bit of nasty language. It wasn't avoidable. But that remark was harsh. He knew real well that it was too, even though he was super soused.
Pony looked ready to say something back, and I wanted to scream, "No, Pony! Don't!" But he didn't hear my telepathic call. He said something back, and I have to admit it was a good comeback.
"You know what a Soc is?" I held my breath and squeezed my eyes tight. Oh, no, Ponyboy. Just shut up. Please. "White trash with Mustangs and Madras." Then, to my horror and surprise, he spit on Bob. Golly. Glory no.
Then Bob grinned eerie-like. It gave me the creeps. He told us about how Pony needs a bath. And I didn't want to find out what that meant. The Soc ran towards us and two other ones pinned me down before I could move very far. One of them kicked me in the gut and I doubled over. Then they ran off. I was distracted by my throbbing stomach for a moment but I could faintly here splashing and screams in the distance.
Gathering strength, I sat up, and saw what was going on. I didn't see Pony for a second, and I was overwhelmed with panic. That got me out of my daze real quick. I saw him then. The Socs were shoving him in the fountain. They were shoving him in the fountain! They were drowning him!
Ponyboy was my buddy - my best pal. Us greasers have to look out for each other, and I couldn't let anything happen to my best friend. What would Darry and Soda say if Ponyboy died? No. Ponyboy was not going to die. Not this way. Not tonight.
Getting up and running towards the fountain, I blindly tried to pull Bob off of Pony. But it was no use. He was way stronger and bigger than I was. "Stop!" I screamed desperately. My voice was raising octaves. "You're going too far! You're gonna kill 'im!"
I tried desperately to pry them off of him again, but once again, it was no use. I started to panic once again when I saw Pony going limp. Oh, no. I'm too late, I thought. I took a deep breath. I grabbed my blade out of my pocket and squeezed my eyes closed. What am I doin'? I thought as I jabbed my knife deep in to Bob's back.
Everything seemed to stop right then. The wind stopped blowing, the birds stopped chirping. The Socs left Ponyboy to float in the water and they all turned to stare at me, wide-eyed. My eyes were wide too. I was scared to death! I'd just killed someone! I'd be put in jail or the electric chair or something!
Afraid that the Socs were going to try and attack me, I stuck my blade out, holding it like Tim Shepard does. That would make me look tough enough. The ran away from me, screaming. "Holy crap! That greaser killed Bob!" They piled in to the Mustang and took off. Chickens. Who leaves their dead friend behind? Talk about not being loyal friends. They just ran off. Real noble.
Staring at the limp carcass in horror, I went back to the fountain. Golly, there was so much blood everywhere. A whole ton of blood. I didn't even know people could bleed that much.
I'd just killed a person. I took a person's life. A kid's life. He couldn't have been much older than me.
I dragged Ponyboy out of the fountain, hoping it was not too late. I set him on the sidewalk gingerly and felt for a pulse. It was there, thank the almighty Lord. He started coughing and spitting up water, and I knew he would come to soon.
Nauseated, I reached over by Bob and pulled my knife out. My adrenaline was pumping. The blood was so thick it was like it was black. It circled underneath his body in a thick pool.
Ponyboy came to. He was real scared like I was. He was crying, which spooked me up a ton. He didn't cry very often. The only time I ever seen him cry was when he was jumped that time, at his mom and dad's funeral, and when we was young and Steve shoved his head in dirt and made him eat it.
I told him how I killed him bluntly. Might as well not sugar coat it. But I don't think there's a way to even sugar coat the fact that you just killed someone - a young boy, no less.
I couldn't bring myself to pay attention to what he was saying. My mind was reeling with the fact that I had killed someone. I killed someone. I killed someone!
Pony looked at me with the most upsetting, confused look on his face that I nearly broke in to tears. It was a grimace, like he was in pain. He probably was. He was probably freezing. Pony was so young. Too young. He was screaming and was gettin' real hysterical. He threw up, and I decided to be a good friend and reassure him by not lookin' at him when he did it.
All I wanted to do was curl up in to a ball. "You really killed him, huh, Johnny?"
I almost told him to shut up. But I explained myself. "Yeah." I whispered to mostly myself, but I could tell Pony'd heard me. "I had to. They were drowning you, Pony. They might have killed you. And they had a blade... they were gonna beat me up..."
"Like... like they did before?"
Hesitant, I said, "Yeah, like they did before."
I went on to explain to him what happened to the other Socs when Ponyboy screamed: "Johnny! What are we gonna do? They put you in the electric chair for killing people!" I wanted to tell him to shut up. I knew that. I didn't need a reminder. He was shaking awful bad. "I'm scared, Johnny. What are we gonna do?"
He started screaming and I tried to help him get a hold of himself.
I knew that I needed to get out of there. We both did. We needed Dally. He would get us out of this trouble. He could fix this.
A/N: So, what'd you think? I know this isn't exactly an original plotline, but I wrote it for a school project a long while back and I recently rediscovered this. I don't know about it. Kind of iffy. Johnny's not exactly my strong suit.
Did I overdo it on Johnny's voice?
Feedback of any sort would be lovely.