I don't wanna remember

Alex Raundahl Madsen

Beta reader/editor – Muse35

A fan-fiction from S.E Hinton's "The Outsiders"

Chapter 1

He carefully removed the dust from the mirror, looking at the reflection and wondering when he would ever see his own face without any type of cuts or bruises on it. He let out a small sigh and put on his shirt from the day before. He didn't care much about the blood stains that were on it, nor the rip that was on the left sleeve. All he cared about right now was whether or not he would be able to leave the house without yet another beating.

Slowly he opened the door just enough to peek out into the hallway. No one there. Carefully he opened the door fully and slipped into the hallway. The floor made a few squeaking sounds even though he was walking as slowly and carefully as he could. Holding his breath, he slipped down the stairs into the living room. There was no one to be found. It was the same old mess with beer cans and old dirty clothes.

With a small relief he started to breathe normally. Looking around for his jacket, he stepped into the kitchen, finding his jacket on the floor next to the door. Then he remembered what had happened the night before.

It was a cold night. Much colder than usual for this time of year. Johnny had decided that it might be a bad idea to stay at the lot that night, so he had started walking towards the Curtis house, but a few meters from the house he could hear Darry yell at Pony about something. Usually it was about school. Pony never did seem to make Darry happy no matter what he did. What it was about this time he couldn't hear for sure, but he knew if he were to knock on that door everyone would look at him and try to act normally, just so they wouldn't upset him. He knew all too well that everyone tried to keep all the bad shit from him because he had enough of that at home. They would act like they thought he hadn't been able to hear them from the street and Johnny would just stand there feeling stupid. He didn't want to barge in in the middle of an argument. Then rather just leave them to it.

For some weird reason he had at that moment decided to go home. He would of course have been able to maybe go find Dally, who was probably at Bucks getting wasted. Dally would have let Johnny borrow his room for the night, but at that moment Johnny didn't think about that option. It actually just came to his mind now that he was thinking back on the night before.

It had started to rain and the wind had taken a turn for the worse. Not giving it much of a though, he ran towards his own house, opening the front door and letting it slam behind him. His hair dripping wet and his whole body shaking, unable to control it.

"What the hell is that noise?" a familiar voice yelled from the living room. Beer bottles and cans could be heard as they tipped over. From the sound of it someone was getting up and coming towards the kitchen. Only a few moments later his father came rampaging into the kitchen and with no hesitation he planted his fist in Johnny's jaw, knocking him to the floor.

"You stupid kid! I was just telling the guys a story and you came busting in like you own the house! What the hell do you think you're doing!?"

Tasting blood in his mouth, Johnny had thought: "They have company? We never have company!"

His thoughts where violently interrupted by a kick to the side. Johnny tried not to make a sound. He wouldn't give his father the pleasure of seeing the pain he was causing. A few more kicks where put to his side before he suddenly was pulled to his feet by the neck, his jacket being pulled off and dropped on the floor.

"Hmm... you know... you have to pay me back for your behavior you little shit."

Johnny tried to push him off but then a voice came from the living room, yelling at his father, telling him to get his ass back to finish the damn story. He stopped and yelled back, "Yeah I'm coming, just had to teach my dumbass son a lesson." He pushed Johnny back against the wall, letting him go. "Pff... some other time..." he said and wandered off back into the living room.

Johnny sighed and took on his jacket. His dad had never done anything but beat him, but lately he had seemed different, and even though Johnny had been afraid before, he had never been as afraid as he was last night.

He sat down for a brief moment. His body felt sore from the kicks and the punch he took to the jaw. He had not examined his body from the beating the other night. He didn't even remember how he got to bed. Slowly he moved his hand up and carefully examined his jaw. No it was surely not broken. His hand moved to his side to check for any broken ribs, but there was nothing. He let out a relieved sigh. Yet again he had been lucky.

He hated going to the hospital and having to explain where he had gotten the cuts and bruises. Of course it had become easier over the years, since many of the greasers always got into fights and other kinds of trouble, so the nurses always thought of him as just another punk from the streets who had had too much to drink or just been in trouble. After all, everyone from the "normal" side of town would think of him as a hood.

He remembered coming to school once with blood all over his shirt. His teacher had of course thought he had been fighting and had yelled at him and told him to go home. What she didn't know was that Johnny had by accident knocked over his dad's beer and his dad had struck him with a bat.

Johnny scratched his neck. It was sore like the rest of his body. He wondered why he had such a hard time remembering what had happened after his dad had let go of him, but he just shook his head. It was probably nothing. He got to his feet, looking at the old clock on the wall. It was almost noon already. His dad was either at work or at the bar and his mom was surely at the bar, but they usually came back to the house for some food at around this time, so it was about time to leave the house.

Walking down the street as fast as he could, Johnny's mind wandered off yet again to the night before. Why had there been people at their house last night? He couldn't really get that out of his head. His parents had not had company for almost 5 years. Heck maybe even longer. Johnny was so caught up in this that he didn't notice a guy sneaking up on him.

"Hey johnnycake! Funny to find you here on the streets on this fine day," Two-bit grinned as Johnny gave him with a surprised look that soon turned into a small smile.

"I'm always on the street Two-bit."

"Shush kid. I'm trying to make a joke here. It would probably be even weirder if you were not on the street… but what I meant was... what are you doing ON the street?"

Johnny suddenly realized he was walking in the middle of the street and quickly jumped onto the sidewalk.

Two-bit laughed. "Damn Johnny you must be daydreaming. You always stay far away from the street. Heck, sometimes I think you have a relationship with the walls of all the buildings in this town as much as you hug 'em."

Johnny gave him a small smile, trying to hide the bruise on his face by keeping his head down. Of course Two-bit had probably already noticed, but he didn't say anything and Johnny was glad he didn't. He just didn't want to explain anything right now.

"So... where you headed? Curtis house? I myself was on my way there. Superman is probably at work and so is Soda. Now that I think about it..." Two-bit took out a cigarette and lit it. "Pony might be at school still."

"Then why go there, Two-bit?" Johnny asked, trying to tease the older greaser.

"Two words, kiddo. TV and chocolate cake." He laughed.

Johnny just sighed but couldn't help smiling. Two-bit always made him smile, even when he had the worst day.

Johnny decided that he didn't really have anything better to do, so he tagged along. Two-bit blabbered on about some random stuff he had done the night before. He seemed a bit intoxicated so Johnny guessed he had been drinking. Usually Johnny didn't really like drunks, mostly because of his father and mother, but Two-bit was the funny kind of drunk. Sure, sometimes he didn't think before he acted but he never meant any harm by the stuff he did to his fellow greasers. He had scared Johnny a few times, sneaking up on him and such, but he always said sorry afterwards. As said, he didn't think about it too much.

Suddenly Two-bit stopped and pointed to the other side of the street. "Hey, ain't that your mom kid?"

Johnny followed Two-bit's finger with his eyes. His mom was walking down the street, not stumbling like she usually did. In fact she didn't look drunk at all. Johnny's eyes widened a bit when he saw a man walking with her.

Two-bit must have noticed the look on Johnny's face and asked: "Who's the guy?"

Johnny didn't answer. He just stood there staring at the woman that was supposed to be his mom and the man walking and laughing with her. Two-bit asked his question again, looking rather confused. Finally Johnny answered, not taking his eyes off the two. "I don't know... I have never seen him before."