Johnny's P.O.V.
Warnings: This is sad, there is no happy ending. Includes cursing, abuse, and possible triggers that induce hard feelings to feel. This is an imagine, almost- what if Johnnys parents finally broke him?
I tore through the bushes, desperate to outrun my parents. I had come home at around 8:00 and they had told me to leave because I wasn't wanted anyway. Now my mother and father were chasing me through the bushes and forest, trying to...I don't know. Trying to hurt me, definitely.
I suddenly tripped over a root in the ground, falling clumsily to the floor. My mom and dad caught up to me, heaving in exhaustion. I wasn't tired, it's not like I haven't ran like this from them before. This was just the first time they actually caught up to me.
"Johnny, the son I NEVER WISHED I HAD!!" my mother screamed,slurring every work. She's a damn drunk, if you didn't know yet. I winced as my mom slapped me across the face...hard. Her eye twitched and she got closer. I could smell the alchohol on her breath.
"YOU FUCKING LET-DOWN, DIE IN HELL! I DESERVE BETTER!" my mother screamed even louder. She slapped my face again and then my head. Real, real, real hard. Just when I thought it couldn't get any worse, my dad decided to join in.
"A DAUGHTER WOULD HAVE BEEN BETTER THEN YOUR LAZY ASS!" my father bellowed. He belted me across the face so hard I felt my molar loosen. Then suddenly, something inside me snapped. Usually I wouldn't let this get to me-I'd think "it's ok, everything's fine, I'm not a bar person." But tonight was different. I suddenly felt horrible. My parents don't care, my friends aren't the same, I'm a disappointment. These are the thoughts that were running through my head when I finally got to my feet. All I knew at that moment was that I had to get out. I ran past my parents, all the way back to our house. By the time I got back to my house, I was sweating and my adrenaline was insane. I just needed to have everything stop, so I did the only thing I could think of...I headed to my dads gun collection. I silently picked up a small pistol, the one that my dad used to use to shoot animals. It could go real far, but it's close fire was pretty good too. I quietly tiptoed outside, scared that my parents had returned. They were not going to get in the way this time. Nothing would. I ran down the street and stopped at a fork in the road. It was time. There were in fact words to explain what I was feeling: nothing. Nothing at all. I wasn't sad, I wasn't mad, I wasn't happy or nervous. Just...nothing. I couldn't take much more of this thing called life. It was too sad. I can't, I couldn't, I won't. I feel bad for Pony and the greasers, but do they really care? Probably not, they don't have to anyway. I took a deep breath and put my finger on the trigger. It would all be over in 3...2...1...
BAM!!!!!!!!!
