Not sure when I posted the first chapter, but I definitely know I am posting this earlier than planned. I got too excited... again. P.S. This is a flashback; don't get confused, now, folks. Sensitive themes and swearing below; read at your own discretion.
XxXXxX
It's all my fault.
Shit.
I drove them away. It was always a hard thing, trying to keep everyone together and happy, but this time I really did it.
And the worst part about it? I had hurt them. Bad…
I really didn't mean anything by what I had done.
I just didn't want to go back to school.
People were acting weird around me; looking at me funny and saying things.
I had told them this before.
Darry understood why. But he said it'd get better. He said he was there if I needed him- but he still made me go.
Sodapop offered to come to attend a class every once in a while if it'd make me feel better. It didn't. But he came anyway. Him and Two-Bit.
It got so bad, even Steve changed- he treated me nicely and stopped growling. He stuck up for me in the hallways and kept me out of trouble when Two-Bit couldn't.
I was sick of it.
So, one day, I acted out. Turned chairs and tables over. I hurt people. Attacked guys that had once jumped me. I was older and stronger- they couldn't match me. It only got me suspended though; that was disappointing.
But when Darry and Soda found out, they exploded- the whole world did.
We fought about it. The whole neighborhood could hear it. They told me that what I had done would have severe consequences.
But they didn't listen to me when I tried to explain. They said things that really hurt. Things that scared me. But it probably wasn't as painful as the things I said back to them.
And I did, I said things.
Things like you're horrible guardians. I hate you. I'd rather be in a boy's home. Mom and dad would be disappointed.
Two-Bit and Steve were there. Their faces turning a shade paler at every sentence. Darry didn't say anything; he looked like he was ready to throw up. He went to his room. Soda ran out, Steve in tow- I could hear the sound of car doors being slammed shut and then the car squealing out of the driveway. Two-Bit had just stood there.
"Two-Bit…" I was going to explain to him why I said the things I did, but he stopped me.
"Fuck you, Ponyboy." He said in a shaky voice. He looked like he was going to cry. He left.
That all happened a couple days ago.
It's been tough since then. During the day, I never run into them, and when I do they don't look at me. They don't say anything. Sometimes when I go out for walks I see them with each other. They talk to each other. No doubt about me.
That's the hardest part. Watching them be that way. It was easier before because when they wanted to know something they'd ask; now, they just keep their distance.
And things kept falling apart.
Social Workers had stopped by yesterday. They told my brothers that they weren't fit to be my guardians; but due to a certain appeal given in court not too long ago, they couldn't do anything about it. Not now, anyways.
They would be keeping careful watch, though. They will fight them, too, if it means getting me to a 'better' home. I sobbed in my room after they left. No one knew.
I am so damn sorry. The guilt eats at me and there is nothing I wouldn't give to take everything back.
But there was nothing else to do! I needed them to understand but they refused to listen to me.
Ever since Johnny and Dallas's passing- well, my parents passing, really- something dark has started inside me. It spreads and makes me feel sad and empty. I didn't care about it before because I had Sodapop, and I thought it had completely faded when Darry and I had come to terms with each other after Windrixville but it didn't.
It got worse.
I was hurting so much inside. I just wanted to curl into a ball and die. I would wake up and feel this huge weight on my chest- on those days, I would tell my brothers that I was sick. They were never able to find anything wrong with me but usually complied at my request to stay home- usually.
Sometimes, even when I sit in class, the words that the teacher says get all jumbled and float around in the air. I'd spend most of the hour trying to grasp them and get them to make sense. But all they did was mock me. Me and my uselessness.
And then it happened. The thing that Dr. Achard had been talking about.
It was the most horrible thing. I shudder every time I think about it; it wasn't fair. What they did to me. What had happened…
I couldn't go back there. But Darry and Soda kept making me go.
And now, with everything that has gone down between us, I feel like I'm standing on the edge of a cliff with no other choice but to jump.
The switchblade that Two-Bit had bought me for my recent birthday turns in one hand as I grip a piece of paper in the other.
What is it like being that cold?
It's tempting; I've never thought about ending my own life but it seems that now is the best time to do it. Being dead can't possibly be as bad as living.
I look down at the note I wrote only moments ago.
I'm sorry for everything. – Ponyboy
Damn. I'm so poetic.
It's raining outside. Tears stream down my cheeks. I furiously wipe them away.
I'm angry. Angry at myself for being so stupid and pathetic. Angry at my brothers for not being able to understand what this dark thing is inside me. Angry at my friends for being so protective and so careless at the same time. They ruined everything.
No, I ruined everything.
What the hell does anything mean anymore?
Exhaling sharply I bring the tip of the knife to my chest and hold it there. I count…
One…
Two…
Time stops and for a second I almost believe that I've actually done it. But when I open my eyes I see that I am still in that same position.
I throw the knife down. It clatters against the tile floor and slides in the opposite direction. Suddenly a searing pain catches my attention. I look down.
I didn't realize that I had cut myself. A small red trickle running down my arm. It hurts, but it's slightly comforting at the same time. I do it again.
One. Two. Four. Ten. I keep going; repeat until red is all I see. It hurts so damn good.
Huh.
I stare at the blood that's pooling in my lap and onto the floor. I should clean that up but I'm too physically drained to do anything. I rest my head against the cupboard.
I'm not stupid; I know what I've done and how bad it is. I never knew someone could go out this way. It's easier.
At least the emotion has subsided. It's not so bad anymore. There's just a fuzzy numbness buzzing through me.
I think about the gang and what they would think. What they would say. Maybe it's for the better, I think woozily.
All the yelling… The things we said to each other… The Social Workers… It'll all be gone. No more.
Yeah. It'll all get better soon.
XxXXxX
I don't realize that I've fallen asleep until I hear screaming. It scares me but I don't jolt to it; I don't want them to feel bad for waking me.
I stay as I am.
Suddenly someone's shaking me violently.
"Ponyboy!" It's Soda. "Pony, honey… Oh no, no no no no no…. Shit! What the hell is this? Ponyboy, say something!" I'm so glad to hear him say my name. But why is he upset?
"Holy shit…" I hear Steve say.
"Steve call an ambulance! Phone Darry after that! Holy shit…" Soda sounds like he's losing it. I want to comfort him- if only he'd stop shaking me.
"Pony… baby, can you hear me?… Oh shit… Oh glory no…" Soda moans. He's crying now. He hugs me tightly. I'm confused and wonder what's going on. Sleep beckons me back again but I fight it. I can't sleep now; I need to know why Soda's upset.
"I called them!" Steve's back, this time out of breath. "Is he awake?"
Soda just cries.
"Sodapop." Steve says firmly. "You gotta snap out of it and check for a pulse- make sure he's alive."
Cold fingers press against my neck.
"I-I got one!" Soda chokes out. I hear a huge sigh.
Wait… Something happened… I try to remember what it was, but then I'm being moved again.
"We gotta get him out into the living room!"
Someone picks me up. As they do, my arm begins to throb and I groan in spite of myself.
"It's okay, kiddo… I got you…" Soda says, and it's comforting; I want to ask him what's going on but sleep catches me this time.
Everything goes silent.
XxXXxX
The pain is back but this time it's burning me.
I try to swat the fire off of my arm. It still hurts. I scream.
"Kid! Kid, stop! Go, get a doctor or somebody!"
Someone holds me down. They keep moving my arm but it's not helping; the pain persists.
It's hot and I can barely breathe. I start to cry. The hands on my arm loosen their grip.
"Sh… It's okay, Pony, you're okay…" Someone says softly. I know I know that voice, but for the life of me I can't place it.
"A-am I dead?" I ask. Something beeps.
"No," The voice is strained. "No, you aint, okay? Stop talking like that."
"I wish I were… It'd be a lot easier..." I'm too tired to say anything else. Suddenly there's soft weeping. A door creaks and there're footsteps.
I want to know why my arm hurts so bad, but I fall asleep before I can ask.
XxXXxX
When I wake again, I'm warm. It's a good feeling. But I know I'm not somewhere familiar; It's too soft here. I shift and inhale deeply. Antiseptic fills my nose and that's when everything rushes back to me.
XxXXxX
My poor Ponyboy... I promise it'll get better soon.
XO, Sensible Daydreamer
