"Caitlin, Caitlin!" Marcia ran screaming down the hallway after the last bell rang. "Did you hear?" She continued, now having reached her friend, her tone softening and becoming cautious.
"Mmhmm," the girl mumbled, tears already streaming down her face. "Oh, you poor thing! Ok, you will be coming to my house for girl night." "Or maybe week. I didn't realize she liked him that much." Caitlin held the note in her pocket delicately, sobs wracking her body. "Ok, come to my car. I'll take you home." Caitlin let herself be led away by Marcia, not bothering to watch where she was going.
Her thoughts were far away; with the letter she had felt compelled to write to Johnny when she had found out he was dead. She would have written far more, but felt so exposed with all her feelings just lain out on the paper for all to see. So, overcome with emotion, she had eventually petered out to a stop, her cheek smudged with ink, her head resting on the paper.
"Johnny, I remember the first time I met you like it was yesterday. We had to write a poem for school and no one volunteered to read theirs in front of the class. I had never been any good at poetry because I had never gotten the rhythm or the sense of time for it. When the teacher picked you to read, I didn't have high expectations. I mean, you were a greaser! No one expected them to be smart, or know anything beyond gang fights. But how more wrong could all of us be? I don't remember the whole poem, but one line really stood out. You seemed to be looking at me with your deep, black, bottomless eyes as you recited it. "There is only one happiness in life, to love and be loved." I did not yet know that you were referring to how the greaser gang you hung out with was your only family, and that your parents were drunken child abusers. I didn't know until after your death that your home life was never easy, how you often slept in empty lots or at friend's houses. The consequences of spending the night at home could be a brutal beating or an embarrassing argument with your parents that the whole neighborhood could hear. This just made me respect you even more. You fought off suicidal thoughts, something far too weary and smothering for a 16 year old boy like yourself to be dealing with.
Goodbye, Johnny. I feel like we've been closest friend all our lives, yet still have the universe to learn. I will treasure the few precious, golden memories I have of you and hope that I came out of this a more caring, stronger person, always striving to do my best. I saw that under all the hair oil and tough façade you were really just a sensitive, abused boy.
It can be terribly difficult to get by in this cruel world where innocent children could be ignored by their drunken parents one day and beaten the next. But he was strong enough to fight past all of this and be brave as a lion and rescue those children trapped in the burning church. Yes, that is how I would describe him. A lion. He was strong and brave, but still gentle with the children. I respected how you could stay true to your friends and values, even after killing a human being. It was only in self defense! If you hadn't fought off that drunken Soc, both you and Ponyboy surely would have died. Your intent wasn't to kill someone; it was to protect someone you loved. In fact, he was one of the few people you knew and trusted well enough to love. I hope that if you had lived longer, you would have come to love me too. Though we may be separated by greaser and Soc, in life and death, my love will stretch on for eternity."