Disclaimer-I do not own the Outsiders

A/N-The last chapter of Heart of Fire is being written, so I will have it posted as soon as I can! But this is my new story (obviously) and as I wrote this chapter I tried to dig deeper into my character Melody more then I did with Nikki. This stuff really happens and it really hurts me to think about it. I just started reading a book called Hate List and it really got me thinking about this stuff. So I hope you enjoy this!

I stared at the ceiling, my mind spinning on what had happened only a week before. Gun shots rang in my ears and people could be heard screaming from down the street. Dylan's face flashed through my mind, blood splattered on his new white t-shirt. A single tear rolled down my face as I recalled him yelling for me as the cops busted through the door of our high school. Bodies lay on the floor. Pain shot through my arm as I tried to move it and I looked over at my shoulder where blood soaked bandages were wrapped around a small bullet wound. I tried to tell myself that this was all just a dream and that my boyfriend didn't kill those people; that my brother wasn't involved in a crime that killed himself and his best friend. But no matter how hard I willed it away I knew it was true and, in some way, I was involved too. Intentional or not, I helped pick the targets. I told them all the names of the people who tormented me and pushed me around. I even pointed out the star football player Tom Reed. My mom keeps telling me that it wasn't my fault, that I didn't know what they were planning. But as I look back a month before the shooting I can remember some things Dylan said that should have triggered something inside me. Or the way Aaron acted towards some of the other kids at school. I should have realized sooner.

Everyone thought I was guilty anyways, Socs and Greasers. I was never into the whole rivalry thing. I was just a middle-class girl who was dating a greaser boy, but now I was a murderer. I remember watching the news as some of my fellow classmates recalled the horrid Monday morning. They said that I pointed out Tom and told Dylan to shoot him. That I was the mastermind and they just did my dirty work. My "best friend" even told them that I was always talking about how much I hated the kids that were targeted. But if I wanted those kids dead I wouldn't have jumped in front of that bullet that was aimed for Sherry Valence! But I did and now I am in the hospital, answering the cops' questions and listening to my mother cry as she strokes my black hair.

"How was Dylan Keys acting before the shooting?" an officer asked, his belly plump and his head bald. I shrugged.

"He was acting strange," I admitted, "he picked up my brother and I for school. He never took Aaron with us."

"I see. Melody, did you know what they were planning?" he asked, his eyes hard and his face serious.

"No! If I did would I be here?" I hissed. He wrote something down in his small notebook and turned back to me.

"It could have been a stray bullet," he pressed. I shook my head.

"It was aimed at Sherry Valence! Dylan wouldn't shot me; he loved-," I trailed off and looked away.

"I think that's enough for today," my mother said through her tears. The officer nodded and got up, but didn't take his eyes off me as he walked out the door. Once he was gone tears rolled down my face. My mom didn't say anything because deep inside I knew she thought I was guilty, my father did, too. My mom stood up and left as well, not evening saying good bye. I remember when my mom use to take me and my brother out for ice cream every Sunday, but with Aaron dead and me a suspect she stayed in her room mostly, waiting for dad to come home. I knew that when I was released I would be monitored closely since a shrink had come to see me and told me mother that suicidal thoughts might cross my mind due to the shooting. I will admit, taking my own life had crossed my mind. With Aaron gone and Dylan in jail I had no one. My old friends surely hated me now and I knew that going back to school would be a living Hell for me. But I shook all those things away, not wanting to start crying again. For the first time in days the feeling of hate soared through me. I hated me parents for turning their backs on me. I hated Aaron for dying. I hated all those kids that were ever mean to me and Dylan. And I hated myself for loving him and trusting him.

A/N-The shooting itself will be told in several flashbacks.