A new story, yay. Please read and review or follow/favorite and most importantly enjoy the story:)
I don't own The Outsiders
I heard the door slam behind me and kept running. I was running for my dear life. I heard heavy footsteps behind me and ran faster through the yard, opened the gate and I was on my way to the lot. The heavy footsteps stopped at the gate. I heard my father turn around and walk back to the house. My father drinks and he regularly beats me. Today was no exception. He beat me repeatedly with the belt all over my body and then he was punching me all over making me fall on the floor. That's when he started kicking me with his feet. I was in so much pain. I felt bruises forming all over my body and I was bleeding. My shirt was all messed up in blood.
I was so tired of always getting beat up, at the fact that my parents were alcoholics, that they didn't care about me, that they were always fighting. I was so tired of it. I felt that I needed to do something to stop the pain. Both physical and emotional. But what could I possibly do? Sometimes I seriously considered suicide. It was always on the back of my mind.
Right now though all I could think of was running to the lot. We had this vacant lot in our neighborhood. That's where I went when I wanted to be alone and right now I wanted to be alone. I was always welcome at the Curtis. They are part of our gang, but right now I didn't want to go to the Curtis'. I just wanted to be alone. I was so ashamed of what was happening to me, and I really didn't want their pity.
When I finally reached the lot, I stopped to catch my breath. There was an old car seat at the lot. Somebody must've dragged it there long time ago. And I used it when I stayed the night at the lot. And that's what I planned to do today – stay at the lot.
As I came closer I saw, to my surprise, that someone was there, sitting on that old car seat and it wasn't one of the gang. I felt my muscles tense up. Who can it be? I tried to control my fear, and came up closer to the stranger. I slouched and hooked my thumbs in my pockets trying to look tough. The guy had noticed me and was looking up at me.
"Who are you, and what a hell are you doing here? This is our territory," I said through clenched teeth.
He looked confused. "Whose territory?"
"My gang's. You better leave pal."
"Is that right?" He said mocking, "I don't see your name written here."
"You better leave," I repeated in as tough of a voice as I could master.
"Make me." He said, and then added, "What's your deal anyway? You are all bleeding and shit."
"That's none of your business."
I realized that I was in no condition to fight this guy, and he realized it too, and was taking full advantage of it. So I sat on the ground across from him. He obnoxiously took the car seat.
I tried to block out the guy and just relax. I was in a lot of pain from the beating and I wanted to lie down, but he got the car seat, and I wasn't about to lie down on the ground just like that.
The guy seemed to pay me no attention. He opened his bag and took out a spoon. So he was going to eat, I thought. Then he took a water bottle and a lighter, then he took out a syringe. What's that for? I thought. Is he diabetic or something? Then he took out a small plastic bag with white powder. Oh, no an idea dawned on me. And sure enough he ripped the bag open and filled the spoon with the powder and added a few drops of water from the water bottle. It was clear to me he was a junkie. He was doing everything in a rush like he really needed a fix badly. Then he started to heat up the bottom of the spoon using his lighter. After a few minutes when the contents in the spoon turned into a liquid he filled the syringe with the liquid. Then he rolled up his sleeve and shot into the vein. He seemed not to care at all that I was there. He just needed his fix. He bent his arm and lied down. He closed his eyes.
"So you are a junkie, huh?" I blurted out, "that's really low."
He looked at me calmly. The look in his eyes was like he was experiencing a total bliss.
"You don't know what you are talking about kid," he replied, and his voice sounded soothing and relaxed. "You haven't actually tried it. You feel so good. You feel like you are flying. You forget everything and you don't have a care in the world."
"But it's destroying your body and your mind." I countered.
"I don't care," He replied, "It's worth it."
I decided to go to the Curtis after all. I wasn't comfortable with this junkie there. I came into the Curtis', and immediately all attention was on me. I hated that. At least they knew not to ask what happened, because they knew what had happened. They helped me clean my wounds and put bandages on them. I didn't tell them about the guy at the lot 'cause I was embarrassed that I wasn't able to make him leave even though it was our territory. If it was Dal or Steve or anyone from the gang, except maybe Pony, they'd be able to make the guy leave.
I was sitting on the couch in the Curtis' living room, and Pony came in and plopped down next to me. He looked at me sadness in his eyes. He looked helpless. Like he'd like to help me, but there was nothing he could do. I knew that look. I've seen it every time I showed up at the Curtis after a beating. Suddenly I felt myself out of breath.
"I can't take it anymore Pony." I blurted out, "I'll kill myself or something."
"Stop it!" Pony yelled, "Don't talk like that!"
"I don't know. I got to do something." Pony just looked at me and again there was this helplessness in his eyes. Like he'd like to help me, but there is nothing he can do.