Disclamier: OK I DON'T OWN THE OUTSIDERS S.E. HINTON DOES. I don't own Sodapop, Darry, Ponyboy, Steve, Dally, Two-Bit, Johnny, Tim Shepard, Curly Shepard, Buck, etc., etc. But yes, I own Lorraine. :)
When the days are cold
and the cards all fold
and the saints we see
are all made of gold
When your dreams all fail
and the ones we hail
are the worst of all
and the blood's run stale
-Demons, by Imagine Dragons
Chapter One
-Lorraine's P.O.V.-
I sat up when the loud horn sounded the train's arrival. When I got over the deafening blast still echoing in my ears, I rubbed my eyes and blinked for a few minutes, to make the soreness go away. I hadn't cried too much last night, just for a few hours. I could have gone on forever though. I decided to stop after a while though, because I'd cried so much I couldn't breathe and my chest felt like it's been trampled on by thousands of horses. I could taste nothing but salt, and I was just a mess. Inside and out. Then, I mostly just smoked until the train had reached Tulsa. It was hard to cry when you were smoking.
Dal wouldn't of have wanted me to bawl like a baby because of him anyways. He would have laughed his head off. And I could hear it too... his laugh, which seemed like the only human thing about him at times - the only thing that made you wonder for a moment if he could actually feel things. His laugh had sounded... passionate, even, at times. And that was coming from me, the person who knew him best. He managed to have even me question the existence of his humanity all the time.
I hopped off the still train, smiling as the sky began to open up a bit. It was almost dawn at 2 a.m. Where the hell was I supposed to go now? Dal had just called me up and died, and now I was in Tulsa on a whim. I hadn't had the slightest clue what good being here in Oklahoma would do me, aside from the fact that it was safer than New York's West side and there were some of Dally's friends here. So I decided to do what I do best - just block off all my thoughts and walk wherever my feet felt was right.
After an hour, I found myself in a brazen field, patches of grass here and there. It looked like a small football field, or maybe a place for fights. Dally had said they were called "rumbles" here in Tulsa during the phone calls he'd made home over the past few years.
I sat down on the curb, pulling my knees to my face as I wrapped my arms around my legs. And suddenly the most stupidest idea hit me. It came out of nowhere, like a guttural instinct, except I'm sure it wasn't.
"Okay," I said to quietly to myself, "School."
Boring so far, I know, I know. But please just hang tight for the nest 2-3 chap.'s will y'all? Please? It's going to be a nice romance; I'm giving it all I got. Sodapop's coming into the plot soon; in fact, he'll be the first greaser we meet! :) Thanks for giving my story a try. And sorry, again, for the short, boring chap. and uninteresting writing so far...but that's the introduction is like ahha. Review, please?
