I just got to see the Outsiders movie! I liked the book better, though...
This chapter is kind of strange. Old creepy relatives. (Can you tell I've been to a family reunion recently? ^_^ kidding....) I'm going to skip ahead 3 years. Dally is 13 now. Also, does anyone know what town the Outsiders is in? I didn't know, so I just used Stop A... It sounds really goofy. If you know, tell me! Thanx...
I don't own the Outsiders, don't sue me...
---------------------
Chapter 3
Going Home
---------------------
*Three years later*
Dally kicked open the door to the apartment his family was currently living in. His mother was packing, tears rolling down her cheeks. Dally heaved a sigh. It was hard to feel sorry for her when it happened so often. And it wasn't exactly convenient relocating every time his mother broke up with her latest boyfriend. Since they'd moved to New York City, they'd probably lived in at least twenty different apartments, and he couldn't tell the difference between any of them. They were all cramped, and on the 'bad' side of the New York.
"Get packed!" his mother snapped. "We're getting out of this goddamn city. Going home."
Dally raised his eyebrows. "Home?" He didn't even know where his mother had been born, before they'd moved to New York they'd lived everywhere from Oregon to Florida.
"Kansas," his mother replied.
"Kansas!?"
"Yeah. That's where I was born."
Dally just stared at her in horror. Kansas. No doubt a town full of hicks. He couldn't think of anywhere more boring.
***
Dally hated trains. He shifted in his seat, trying to get more comfortable. "STOP A, KANSAS!" the intercom blasted.
"That's us," his mother said, standing up. Dally grabbed his bag from under the seat and moved toward the front of the train.
A rainy drizzle was falling outside. (a/n: I dunno, can rainy drizzles fall? Oh Well....) He stepped off the train and sighed. Nope, it wasn't any better than he'd expected. The rain probably wasn't helping, but the gray streets weren't exactly awe-inspiring. Not in the least. He'd be lucky if there were gang fights or even gangs at all here, he thought bleakly.
No one was there to meet them. Dally didn't care. He watched as people got off the train and were bombarded by joyful relatives.
"What are you starin at?" said a voice loudly from behind him. Dally whirled around, surprised, and saw a rich looking teenager standing there, a disgusted expression on his face. "Grease," he said, looking Dally up and down. "As if we more greasers around here."
"I just can't seem to get away from Socs, can I?" Dally said, glaring with ice cold blue eyes. For lack of anything more original, he spit in the Soc's face. Then turned away, ignoring the Soc's outraged reply, and caught up with his mother, who was already walking away.
"Where are we going?" he asked.
"My Aunt's house. You great aunt Nancy."
"Aunt Nancy? Anymore relatives I don't know about?"
"Not here. Now shut up."
He shut up and watched as he walked past the big, nice looking houses that lined the street. Then they crossed a street and it was like they were in a whole new world. The houses looked like they were a threat to the people who lived in them, and the people on the streets looked tougher, more like greasers. Dally relaxed. This felt more like home.
Dally's mother stopped in front of one of the most dingy houses on the block. Marching up to the door, she knocked, yelling, "Aunt Nancy! Nancy! I know you're in there, open up!" She stopped knocking and waited, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.
Dally stared at the door, wondering if his mother had gone crazy. Then the door swung open, and an old woman peered out. Squinting, she took a step closer. "Cathy? Is that you?"
"Yes, Aunt Nancy, it's me. Me and the children have come to stay with you."
For the first time, Nancy's glance took in Dally and his six brothers and sisters. Dally was the oldest, since Michael was killed, and he had three brothers and three sisters, ranging in age from eleven to one.
His Aunt's gaze traveled over each of them, slowly, then paused on Dally.
The old woman frowned. "I don't like boys his age." She pointed a skinny finger at Dally. "Always gettin in gangs, and trouble, they are."
Dally could see his mother flinch at the accusation that was so close to the truth. God, he hated this place. And his aunt. So what if he did get in trouble, she didn't know that. Just judging him, like everyone else had always judged him. Like the Socs always judged you. He turned and walked away. He couldn't help it. He was just so tired of not being wanted.
This chapter is kind of strange. Old creepy relatives. (Can you tell I've been to a family reunion recently? ^_^ kidding....) I'm going to skip ahead 3 years. Dally is 13 now. Also, does anyone know what town the Outsiders is in? I didn't know, so I just used Stop A... It sounds really goofy. If you know, tell me! Thanx...
I don't own the Outsiders, don't sue me...
---------------------
Chapter 3
Going Home
---------------------
*Three years later*
Dally kicked open the door to the apartment his family was currently living in. His mother was packing, tears rolling down her cheeks. Dally heaved a sigh. It was hard to feel sorry for her when it happened so often. And it wasn't exactly convenient relocating every time his mother broke up with her latest boyfriend. Since they'd moved to New York City, they'd probably lived in at least twenty different apartments, and he couldn't tell the difference between any of them. They were all cramped, and on the 'bad' side of the New York.
"Get packed!" his mother snapped. "We're getting out of this goddamn city. Going home."
Dally raised his eyebrows. "Home?" He didn't even know where his mother had been born, before they'd moved to New York they'd lived everywhere from Oregon to Florida.
"Kansas," his mother replied.
"Kansas!?"
"Yeah. That's where I was born."
Dally just stared at her in horror. Kansas. No doubt a town full of hicks. He couldn't think of anywhere more boring.
***
Dally hated trains. He shifted in his seat, trying to get more comfortable. "STOP A, KANSAS!" the intercom blasted.
"That's us," his mother said, standing up. Dally grabbed his bag from under the seat and moved toward the front of the train.
A rainy drizzle was falling outside. (a/n: I dunno, can rainy drizzles fall? Oh Well....) He stepped off the train and sighed. Nope, it wasn't any better than he'd expected. The rain probably wasn't helping, but the gray streets weren't exactly awe-inspiring. Not in the least. He'd be lucky if there were gang fights or even gangs at all here, he thought bleakly.
No one was there to meet them. Dally didn't care. He watched as people got off the train and were bombarded by joyful relatives.
"What are you starin at?" said a voice loudly from behind him. Dally whirled around, surprised, and saw a rich looking teenager standing there, a disgusted expression on his face. "Grease," he said, looking Dally up and down. "As if we more greasers around here."
"I just can't seem to get away from Socs, can I?" Dally said, glaring with ice cold blue eyes. For lack of anything more original, he spit in the Soc's face. Then turned away, ignoring the Soc's outraged reply, and caught up with his mother, who was already walking away.
"Where are we going?" he asked.
"My Aunt's house. You great aunt Nancy."
"Aunt Nancy? Anymore relatives I don't know about?"
"Not here. Now shut up."
He shut up and watched as he walked past the big, nice looking houses that lined the street. Then they crossed a street and it was like they were in a whole new world. The houses looked like they were a threat to the people who lived in them, and the people on the streets looked tougher, more like greasers. Dally relaxed. This felt more like home.
Dally's mother stopped in front of one of the most dingy houses on the block. Marching up to the door, she knocked, yelling, "Aunt Nancy! Nancy! I know you're in there, open up!" She stopped knocking and waited, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.
Dally stared at the door, wondering if his mother had gone crazy. Then the door swung open, and an old woman peered out. Squinting, she took a step closer. "Cathy? Is that you?"
"Yes, Aunt Nancy, it's me. Me and the children have come to stay with you."
For the first time, Nancy's glance took in Dally and his six brothers and sisters. Dally was the oldest, since Michael was killed, and he had three brothers and three sisters, ranging in age from eleven to one.
His Aunt's gaze traveled over each of them, slowly, then paused on Dally.
The old woman frowned. "I don't like boys his age." She pointed a skinny finger at Dally. "Always gettin in gangs, and trouble, they are."
Dally could see his mother flinch at the accusation that was so close to the truth. God, he hated this place. And his aunt. So what if he did get in trouble, she didn't know that. Just judging him, like everyone else had always judged him. Like the Socs always judged you. He turned and walked away. He couldn't help it. He was just so tired of not being wanted.
