So, I've received some questions about when this story takes place because I have yet to write in Johnny. I just wanted to say that Johnny is alive. I just haven't written any dialogue for him yet. However, the events of the book never happened. There was no fire or Cherry or nothing. Sorry that I haven't written Johnny in yet. He'll be appearing soon. ^^'
o-o-o
If Ponyboy thought that the abuse was miserable, he didn't know how to classify the pain in his stomach from how hungry he was. It felt like a hand was tearing open his stomach. He didn't know how long it's been since he last ate. It was during lunch that day he was taken…and even that wasn't much food. That means he hadn't had a bite for a few days maybe many. He really regretted skipping breakfast that day. Even though it felt like weeks, he knew that it couldn't have been many days because he had yet to drink any water and humans can't last long without it. His throat burned from how dry it was but even though he desperately wanted to drink water, he was desperate to go to the bathroom. It felt like he was going to explode but all he could do was hold it all in. His hands shook in anticipation as he waited for his kidnapper to come down, much to his displeasure. Ponyboy couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief when he heard the door to the basement open.
"Can I go to the bathroom?" Ponyboy asked.
"If you have to go, just go," the man answered.
Ponyboy cocked his head. 'He's letting me go to the bathroom?' Ponyboy wondered. He thought it was going to take a bit of begging. "O-Okay…Thank you…Where's your bathroom?"
There was a pause before he hears the man scoff. "I meant go here. I'm not stopping you. You'll just need to clean it up afterward."
"W-What?" Ponyboy stammered, ears red at the embarrassment. "I-I can't—"
"You can." All of a sudden, Ponyboy felt pressure around his bladder area as Vincent pressed his foot there. He whimpered and shook his head violently. The foot pressed harder and he knew that he wouldn't be able to hold it much longer. Even more pressure was placed on his bladder and everything was released with a small sob.
His face burned red as he ducked his head in shame. He shifted uncomfortably in his warm and soggy pants, and the man chuckled, caressing his face. "Look at the mess you've made, Ponyboy," the man cooed, causing the other's face to become even darker. "We have to clean you up now."
His face was let go and Vincent walked away to fill up the bathtub that was in the basement. Oh, man, Ponyboy was absolutely humiliated. The last time he peed himself was when he was a little kid. At least Vincent wasn't making fun of him. If the gang saw him piss his pants, he wouldn't hear the end of it. So, in a way, he was grateful that it was Vincent who saw instead of them.
Ponyboy shook his head. What was he thinking? He wouldn't have had this problem if it wasn't for Vincent. He kidnapped him for Christ's sake! He shouldn't be comparing him to the gang or be grateful for him!
"Get in the tub," Vincent commanded and all Ponyboy could do was comply. He painfully dragged himself across the floor, sprained wrist burning each time he pulls his body weight. But even though he was approaching the tub, it was too slow for Vincent's liking and the man growled, stomping over and grabbing Ponyboy's hair. Pony yelped as he was dragged over, trying his best to keep up, but each movement felt like every inch of him was stabbed by a knife.
Ponyboy was thrown against the full tub and he barely caught himself from slamming his head on the edge. His fingers gripped the edge of the bathtub, fingers dipping into the freezing water. "Get in," Vincent ordered again and Ponyboy gulped, stepping inside, face scrunching up at how cold the temperature was. Oh man, did he want to jump out. It stung against his open wounds, but in a way, it helped his body become numb so that he wouldn't feel as much pain. The water quickly soaked his clothes, making them so much heavier than they were originally. Pony sat down and just waited, unsure on what he should do. "You need to take your clothes off."
"No…th-this is fine," Ponyboy stammered, teeth clattering as he hugged his body, but again, he knew that he shouldn't have objected Vincent as he heard that angry snarl that caused Ponyboy to become stiff.
His hair was roughly grabbed again, and, before he knew what was going to happen, his head was dunked in the water and held. Ponyboy sucked in water in surprise, feeling it sting his eyes and brain, as he thrashed around. He grabbed Vincent's hands, trying to tear them off but it was at an awkward angle so he couldn't even do anything. His vision darkened at the edges and his lungs burned and right before he thought he was going to pass out, his head was pulled out. Ponyboy gasped to fill his air with as much oxygen as possible before he was dunked in again, and it wasn't much longer before his vision started to darken.
'He's drowning me! He's drowning me!' Well, at least he wasn't thirsty anymore.
He was pulled up at the last second and Ponyboy gasped for air. Before he could recollect himself, he was pulled out of the tub, slamming him against the ground. Hands immediately grabbed his body, tugging at his clothes.
"No, stop! Don't do that!" Ponyboy pleaded and pushed down the shirt in retaliation.
"You're going to get really sick if you don't strip."
"I'll take my chances," Ponyboy spat venomously, only to receive a slap against his cheek. The boy yelped, holding the area.
"Listen to me, boy!" The shirt was forced off and soon everything else was gone. Ponyboy felt exposed, curling up into a ball to try to cover himself the best he could. More tears adorned his cheeks as he could feel the man examine every last detail on his body. It was humiliating. Just feeling his looks made it feel like Vincent's hands were all over his body, feeling him up. "You're very beautiful, you know that?"
His words made Ponyboy want to throw up, but he shook his head. "Stop…" Ponyboy whispered, hiding his face in shame.
"It's true though. You are so beautiful. Absolutely perfect for me…"
Ponyboy almost retaliated with a rude comment but he swallowed his words and only sobbed. He felt the man stroke his hair, making it feel like there were a thousand little spiders crawling through his hair. He flinched, nearly ducking away, but stayed put. Vincent hummed and moved his hands to caress his face again, stroking the tears that fell through the blindfold.
"You have to open up and let me see all of you," he suggested. Again, his hands moved, sliding down his entire body, fingers pressing into every groove and bruise until they reached his legs. His hands slid down his thighs, and as much as Ponyboy wanted to struggle, he was petrified on what the man would do to him if he did. He knew where this was leading, but maybe there was a chance of nothing happening to him if he just complied.
Vincent pulled down his legs and Ponyboy cried harder as there was a long pause. "You opened up so easily? Are you secretly a slut?" His hands traveled dangerously close to his crotch. He shook his head, whimpering. "But look at you. You're a lot smaller than what I initially thought…"
Ponyboy just wanted him to shut up. Why can't he just leave him alone?
"So small that, with your prettiness, you could easily be mistaken for a girl. Do your friends and family do stuff to you because of how feminine you look? Do they touch you? Make you feel good?" Vincent continued.
"No!" Ponyboy's lips trembled. The gang would never touch him sexually! The man was just disgusting!
He needed to change the subject. Maybe then the man would stop touching him and would stop saying this to him. But to what? His stomach growled again.
"C-Can I have food? Please, I'm starving," Ponyboy asked, feeling Vincent step away. He sighed in relief.
"You're such a spoiled, needy bitch," Vincent said. "I'll give you food when I feel like giving you food. You haven't been very good." Vincent walked away to Ponyboy's relief. As soon as he heard the basement door close, he instantly curled back up feeling both ashamed and cold.
o-o-o
The two detectives made their way to the gym after getting permission to ask some students and teachers a few questions. Joseph Connolly and Richard Ward quickly found the gym teacher who was watching the students shoot some hoops.
"Hello, my name is Joseph Connolly, and this is my partner, Richard Ward. We're both detectives on Ponyboy Curtis's case," Joseph introduced.
The coach quirked his eyebrows in a mixture of curiosity and worry. "Ponyboy Curtis? Did something happen to him?"
"Yes. He had recently gone missing. We wanted to ask you a few questions to help us in our investigation. Will that be alright?"
"Yes, of course. Follow me to my office. My TAs will watch over the students for the meantime."
The three made it to the coach's office where they all sat down. Again, they pulled out their notebooks. "So, to start off, you didn't notice that one of your students and track team members were missing?" Richard asked.
"I just assumed that he was sick."
"We questioned Mr. Curtis's family and they told us that he was supposed to come home right after track practice. Did you see him during practice?"
"Yes, he was there… But only halfway through."
"Please, elaborate."
"Every now and then, I will have the team jog to the gas station nearby and back. Ponyboy was there during check-in and I remember seeing him run when I blew the whistle. After track practice and after everyone leaves the locker room, I would walk around to check to see that nothing valuable has accidentally been left behind or to pick up some things, so the janitor wouldn't have to do as much work. Ponyboy's backpack was still there and his everyday clothes were still inside the locker."
"And you didn't find that strange?" Joseph asked.
"Of course, I did. I even drove to the gas station to check if he was there. He wasn't. I just assumed he just left in the middle of practice. It's not uncommon for a student to do that."
"And you only figured out something was wrong when you checked the locker rooms?"
"There are a lot of kids on the team. It's hard to keep tabs on who's there and who's not."
"What gas station do they run to?"
"The one near Turner Park."
The two detectives passed each other a glance before closing their notebooks and handing the coach their cards. "Thank you for your information. Please call if you remember anything more."
"No problem. Ponyboy Curtis…he's a good kid, and heck of a runner as well. Please, find him."
"We will try our best."
o-o-o
Johnny was walking to the DX station after escaping his house. He was kicking a stone, not paying attention to where he was going. It was really strange to not have Ponyboy there. Johnny didn't know how much he played a role in his everyday life until his best friend was ripped away from him. Without Ponyboy there, there was no one he felt comfortable around enough to talk about his emotions and to calm him down. He felt like was going to explode with how much stuff was piling on his shoulders. His depression was catching up to him, and with no one there to tether him to life, he didn't know what he would do…Sixteen years was too short of a life...
Fourteen was too short too… Even though Ponyboy might live…no, he definitely will live…fourteen years is too young to live through so much trauma from what whatever is being done to him. Anyone shouldn't go through that, but Ponyboy, man…he was only fourteen.
It scared Johnny to think about how different Ponyboy will be after they find him. Nothing will ever be the same anymore.
As he was entering the station, he bumped into a tall figure.
"Excuse me," the man said with a gruff voice. He carried a few bags in his hand and Johnny only had a brief view of the contents in the bag. One entire bag was filled with bottles of hydrogen peroxide. Another bag had a bunch of beef jerky. Johnny didn't think much about it as he nodded and walked inside the building.
Soda was at the front desk looking horrible. His hair was disheveled, bags under his eyes. He wanted to be out there, searching for his brother, but he couldn't just stop going to work as well. He had to help Darry pay for the bills, especially earn extra cash for if Ponyboy had to be sent to the hospital.
'He's not going to get hurt,' Soda tried to soothe himself, but even he knew that it was a longshot.
"Hey, Soda," Johnny greeted.
"Hey," Soda said, pulling up a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "You wouldn't happen to have found anything that would help find Ponyboy, would you?"
"No, sorry…"
Steve burst into the store portion of the building with a sort of panicked expression. "Did you see what that guy was carrying in his bags? All of that hydrogen peroxide and beef jerky?"
"Yeah, what about him?" Soda asked, flipping through a magazine with a bored expression.
"Who buys that much hydrogen peroxide and beef jerky?"
"Maybe a camping trip?"
Steve looked at Soda with an are-you-kidding-me expression. "Soda, not even someone going camping would buy that, especially here."
"What are you implying?"
Johnny froze as he realized what Steve was trying to say. "He might be the guy that took Ponyboy."
At that moment, Soda shot up from his slouched position, looking more awake than ever. Panic was eminent on his face as he managed out, "We need to catch him!"
The three ran out of the building but were disappointed to find that the man was long gone. Soda screamed, kicking a trash can. He ran his fingers through his hair as he stormed back inside the store. Steve and Johnny just stared at Soda's retreating back in shock. They've never seen him behave so aggressively. It was so opposite of the happy-go-lucky self he normally was.
"Soda," Steve started as he reentered the building, "do you happen to know what the man looked like or what his name was?"
"No! I didn't think anything about him or really looked at him when he was at the counter! I could have caught him and got my brother back! I'm so stupid and useless!" Soda exclaimed, banging his fists against the counter.
Johnny was staring off in space as he tried to recall any detail of the man from his encounter with him, but, alas, he couldn't remember anything. "Why did he have so much hydrogen peroxide? You don't think…"
Steve shook his head. "He had to have gotten it to dissolve blood…but I think Ponyboy is okay. He still bought a lot of beef jerky…probably to feed him."
Then another point of realization hit Johnny. "Why did he pick to buy those items here of all places?"
There was a long silence. Someone could drop a pin, and have it sound like an explosion, it was so quiet. Steve gulped, mouth suddenly dry. He opened his mouth and closed it a few times, finding the right words to say. Finally, he spoke two dreadful sentences that sent chills down their spines. "He was checking up on us. He knows who we are and probably where we all live as well."
Soda swallowed thickly. "I…I have to tell Darry."
