Here all you crazy fans-another chapter.
And I am crazy for updating so much.
I need to make you wait for it. Muhahhaha!
Well anyways thanks for the reviews and such. Hope this chapter isn't a yawn.
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You don't like the sound of the truth
Coming from my mouth
You say that I lack the proof
Well baby that might be so
I might get to the end of my life
Find out everyone was lying
I don't think that I'm afraid anymore say that I would rather die trying…
This time when he swung the bat
And I found myself laying flat I wondered
What a way to spend a dime
What a way to use the time, ain't it baby
I looked at my reflection in the window walking past
And I saw a stranger…
--Dixie Chicks
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1 Month Later:
Pony's POV
Ah, Friday afternoon. I peeked out the window; the sun was still up, casting an almost-spring glow across the neighborhood. Steve and Soda were walking up the drive. Soda waved, Steve mock-threw the football he was carrying towards me.
The door opened. Soda simultaneously kicked his shoes off and tossed his keys, jacket and the mail in a pile on the floor next to me.
"Oh did you clean?" He looked up honestly surprised.
"Yeah, I did," I couldn't help but laugh at the sheepish grin he threw me on his way to the bathroom. Then I saw a familiar sight in the mess Soda had left. I eagerly ripped open the letter addressed to me. Or to Soda, rather.
Good news Curtis,
It seems that Crock and I will be departing this beloved country in two months time.
And yes we are still coming to visit. So break out the beer and get ready to party.
And please-work on your alcohol tolerance, it's absolutely embarrassing.
Crock however is a killjoy. He isn't too thrilled to come…I think he misses his mommy.
Here the pen slashed a jagged black line across the paper. Crock's chicken scratch appeared.
Don't listen to that dope.
Ok, well DO actually listen to him, since we are coming, invited or not.
I'm not in any big hurry to get home anyways. Well, maybe to visit Shep's mom…
I smiled, practically reliving the experience of the two of them writing the letter together and arguing the entire time.
Sergeant Caplan says hi. Since our squad got shot to shit he isn't in our unit anymore. But he still makes time to bust our balls. Anyways, we gotta get going. We have watch tonight. Don't you miss that?
Crocker and Shepard
P.s. when we get to the states we'll give you a call.
I should have been happy after reading that. However, suddenly the air got heavier. The edges of my surroundings blurred. I sat motionless, expressionless. The letter dropped from my hand. I wanted to move. I wanted to move so badly, because I was back there.
The jungle crept upon me, bullets flew and I bled. Others bled. They screamed.
Screamingdyingwhycan'tIstopthinkingaboutitall
My eyes closed and I tried to breath steadily, frozen in another place.
"Kid?" Steve asked uncertainly. He was standing near me. Where I didn't know.
"Hey Soda, you better get in here. Soda? Shit, where did you go?" He clapped his hands loudly in front of me.
"No!" I screamed, jumping off the couch, trying to run.
Then Soda's hands flew out and grabbed my shoulders holding me firm. His forehead wrinkled in confusion. "It's ok. It's ok. Pony it's ok!" I tried to shake him off and he kept me still, his hands gripping me solidly. "What happened?"
I looked at him dumbfounded, wide-eyed. "I, I was having a nightmare during the day."
Nervously, Steve rubbed his hands on his jeans. "Shit. If that's what you have during the day, then I'd hate to see what you have at night."
"You can't escape them can you Soda?" I smiled, feeling as if I was dooming him.
The door opened and Darry and Two-Bit pounded in arguing about something. Darry with the pizza and Two-Bit with the beer. Soda flashed Darry a worried look but wriggling out of my brother's grasp I headed toward the bedroom.
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I was changing for football when Soda came in the room. He saw my scar caused by the bullet. He bit his lip, wincing.
"Aw Pone." Slowly he approached me, speaking in a low voice. "I wish you'd tell me and Darry about over there. I don't know what happened but I'm sure it was awful intense." He watched me carefully as I averted his gaze. "You've been home a month and haven't said a thing. Darry says it'll happen when you're ready but…I'm not so sure. I worry about you with all these night-"
"Soda shut the door will you? I don't want the whole world seeing this." Panicked, I pulled my shirt over my head, hiding my face. "I've been thinking," I began hesitantly, evading his questioning. "Maybe I should move back into my old room."
Soda shook his head in protest, pained at the thought. "No Pony. You wake up too much at night…"
"Exactly why I should move. I've been up so much lately that I'm keeping you up more than usual."
"I told you, I don't mind." Then he switched subjects hastily, trying to distract me from my topic, as I had just done his. "Ready for some football?" He jumped on the bed, yelling like an Indian.
I burst into a laugh and exited the room quickly before he could pull me up there with him.
Everyone else was outside. As usual Steve was griping. "So are we officially old when every Friday night becomes 'football night'? God, talk about routine."
"I'm sorry the likes of you can't get a date on Friday." Two-Bit wisecracked. "But don't take it out on the rest of us who like to have good old American fun!" He positioned himself to tackle Darry, who looked down at him with amusement.
"Do it Two-Bit." I yelled from my position on the porch. "Get a good old American injury!" Darry tossed me the football; I caught it and returned it. Absentmindedly, I dug into the cooler, pulling out a beer. I didn't drink much but I did have an occasional one over in Vietnam. However, after being caught drunk by Caplan, I wizened up and tried to stay sober.
Usually.
"Pony! Toss one over here!" I threw one to Two-Bit. Steve shot me and Two-Bit a warning glance.
In a few quick strides, Darry was at my side, taking the beer can out of my hand.
"You're too young," he said ending the subject.
Coming out of the house, Soda had apparently caught the tail end of this conversation. "You are," he said siding with Darry. For once.
Two-Bit surreptitiously hid the beer at his side, as if he was within the rules of being yelled at by my brothers too.
Not wanting to sound like a whining child, I steadily said, "I wasn't too young in Vietnam. In fact," this was a lie, but I said it anyways, "I bet I could out drink any one of you here."
Steve and Two-Bit muffled laughs. However, judging by Darry's irritated and appalled face I think the laughs were directed at him. "Don't push this," he said.
I really wanted too. I really did. But I saw Soda's face and I said nothing. I merely took the beer from Darry's hand, dumped the remaining contents on the ground and handed it back to him.
"Hey-I would've drank it," Two-Bit protested. Darry unclenched and patted my shoulder, thinking we understood each other.
I stared at the ground, frustrated. We seemed to misunderstand each other a lot lately.
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Ok-I hope I am not making this story too slow. I just want it to be a gradual building of Pony's PTSD and attitude…and also I just want it to be another story. More drama, more fun! Tune in next week for the next, jaw-dropping episode Haha.
If anyone wants info on PTSD (Yes, I am doing research) Wikipedia has some good info. Also the APA.
FYI: PTSD wasn't truly recognized until after the Vietnam War.
