Hey everyone. First story. Notes at the end.

This is set the school year before the book. So, Pone would be 13.

Pony's POV

Kids around me were talking up a storm. I could almost see dark clouds hovering beneath the ceiling, the classroom's excitement causing loud lightning strikes, flashes of white.

Well, it sure felt that way.

Spring break was approaching- it was Friday. After four more long hours, school would be out for a week.

I had been sitting in my table beside the teacher's desk, trying to read. Mrs. Scott was in her chair, lost in her own book, completely ignoring her class. I don't know how she could read with the noise and all, but she didn't seem to mind.

A group of girls laughed loudly at something. Probably some Soc who'd told them a lame story, trying to impress them. Whatever it was, it must have been mighty funny, because they were so loud Mrs. Scott's head snapped up.

"Students, calm down. Students!" she said, failing to grab anyone's attention. That is, anyone's but mine. She looked at me and exclaimed, "Oh! Ponyboy, I need you to take a note to Ms. Holt for me. Thank goodness I remembered."

I was Mrs. Scott's aide that hour. All I really did was take notes to other teachers for her and take the attendance to the office. Most of the time I read or worked on homework.

"Room 28." She handed me a folded and taped note. On the front was 'Ms. Holt' in pretty cursive writing.

I nodded and walked out of the room, into the hallway, glad to be away from all of the students. I liked walking in the quiet hallways while everybody else was in class. Not being pushed by random people or having to watch out for Socs.

Turning into the main hall, I saw a tall man walking in front of me. He was dressed in baggy dark jeans and a black shirt. Noticing I was walking behind him, looked over his shoulder at me. His face was clean and he smiled at me, but it didn't reach his eyes.

I didn't smile back, I just looked away awkwardly. Something didn't seem right about this man. He had the air of a hood. His wide, darting eyes looked like those of a lunatic.

He turned to a water fountain, not looking at me any more. On his chest I saw the bright orange sticker that meant he was a visitor, allowed in the school by the office. I still didn't feel like he was supposed to be there, though.

I continued walking, turning down another hall, almost to Ms. Holt's classroom. I heard the noise of the water fountain stop.

What I didn't hear was the man quickly walking towards me. I was at the door, about to knock when I felt a strong arm wrap around my neck, pulling me back, and something hard shoved into my neck, right below my jaw.

"Scream and I'll shoot," the man said quickly, and I held in a scream, choking. My eyes darted around, looking for someone, but nobody came.

Oh my god- There's no way this is happening. This has gotta be a nightmare. Who the hell shoots up a school? I stared at the heater out of the corner of my eye. I felt it digging into my skin, I felt my pulse racing something fierce, I felt the man's breath on my face as he leaned to whisper in my ear.

"Good boy. Now knock on the door." I felt my face heat up. I was being used. I couldn't let this happen.

I struggled to get out of his grasp but he had me in a headlock. When I kicked the heel of my Chuck Taylors into his shin as hard as I could, he growled angrily and shot a bullet into the carpet. A warning shot.

Now I knew the heater was loaded. I could really die here.

"Open the door." he said, still angry but quiet.

I watched my hands shake while they reached for the door handle. I didn't know where the note had gone, but I guess it didn't really matter, did it? The door opened and it was silent.

Staring at me were twenty seven pairs of eyes. Every one of them looked confused, scared, and defenseless. Including Johnny, who was sitting in the row of desks closest to the door.

Johnny! I locked eyes with him as students started screaming and ducking under their desks. Suddenly, he didn't look scared, he looked angry. He looked tough. He slowly moved out of his desk and onto his knees on the floor.

A siren went off, telling the school to go into lockdown mode. The man behind me cursed and waved his heater around, aiming at each student. They all cowered when it was their turn to be the target. It was weird, watching a bunch of kids older than me shake in fear.

I shook, too. You better believe it. A million thoughts were racing through my head. Should I try to run? Should I attack him? Save my upperclassmen or save myself?

Of course I couldn't save only myself. I had to save Johnny, and I wasn't heartless enough to let everyone die.

Finally, the man chose his first target, none other than Johnny Cade, who had a look on his face that said very clearly: bring it on.

Stupid. It wasn't the time to act tough. He looked me in the eyes again. I could tell he wanted me to take the man on with him. He didn't think the man would shoot yet. A blade appeared in his hand, but I didn't pay much attention to him after that, because I could tell the man was going to shoot.

I didn't think, really. My first instinct was to protect Johnny, don't ask me why. Maybe it was because we were best friends. Maybe it was because I knew he was being too reckless, too cocky this time, and that it would end with him hurt bad.

It happened quickly. I put all my weight on my hands, bringing down the heater. My hands felt real hot all of a sudden, like they were on fire.

"Get the gun!" someone yelled loudly. The man had been caught off guard and his grip around my neck had loosened. I turned and kicked him hard, I don't know where, pulling the gun toward myself. It was hard though. My hands were wet for some reason and I couldn't keep my grip.

Johnny was there beside me in an instant. He punched the man hard in the jaw, again and again. Then the man was out cold and his grip on the gun slacked. He fell backwards, into the door at that.

I slumped down to the floor, sure feeling dizzy. Johnny was right beside me, saying, "You okay, Pony?" I tried to stand and he helped me, but it was too much. I looked down at my hands. They were covered in red. Actually, pretty much everything was. My clothes and parts of the carpet were stained crimson.

I blacked out while Ms. Holt was tying tight strips of cloth around my arms and telling my to keep my hands above my head.

Tell me what you think, please? I probably was terrible at characterization. Please criticize me!

Should I up the grammar a bit, or is it fine like this? For Pone?I was thinking writing the next chapter from Johnny's POV. Or do you wanna know what happens to Pony? Should I even continue?

Thanks for reading!