((Sorry if we take a while to upload the stories! There's always school and everything, and my girlfriend's a slow writer when she wrote this chapter :P))

The usual disclaimer: I do not own the Outsiders. All rights belong to S.E. Hinton.

Chapter 4

"I would rather die than be some faggot." That whole sentence replayed in Johnny's head like a broken record player; he felt a huge weight on his chest as he ran down the road. He didn't want to look back only to see Dally's home growing smaller and smaller as he ran as fast as the wind. The sun gleamed down on Johnny; his eyes slightly squinted as the tears spilled out of his eyes like a waterfall, his heart pounding hard inside his chest like a hammer against cloth. He kept running and running; he could see in the corners of his eyes the houses in his neighborhood. Johnny began panting, feeling like his heart was about to burst in his chest, but still he didn't want to stop running. Johnny stopped to catch his breath as he felt the sweat on his forehead run down his face; his body felt all jelly-like and his throat was burning. He turned his head to his left, and there he saw Ponyboy's house. Johnny stopped breathing as he stared at the house; he felt like he hadn't seen or heard from Ponyboy in months. He stood up straight and let the sweat run down his neck, his heart still pounding hard against his chest as he continued to look at the house

…No. I can't see him, I cheated on him…he'll never forgive me. I'm sorry Pony…I'm sorry it had to end up like this. More tears spilled out of his puppy dog-like eyes at that thought and he bit his lower lip. He stared at the house for a few more seconds then started to run to his house. Johnny quickly wiped his tears away as his folks' screaming at each other became more audible. He wanted to run away somewhere else, but he didn't know where else to go. When Johnny sucked up the courage, he slowly opened the door; a loud creak echoed through the house, making Johnny wince. The screaming in his house stopped. Johnny slowly stepped inside the house, looking down at the hardwood floor underneath his feet.

"…W-where the…hellll have ya' been?..." he dad slurred. Johnny stood there in silence, his breathing hard, legs trembling. He whimpered loudly once he felt the back of his drunken father's hand strike him on his cheek. "LOOK AT ME WHEN I'M T-TALKIN' TO YA' BOY!..." Johnny smelled the heavy liquor on his old man's breath. He struggled to hold back tears as he slowly looked up at his dad; his old man's eyes were bloodshot red and he had stubbles on his chin and cheeks. He drank more of his whiskey. Johnny's eyes shifted to his mother who was standing behind him with a cigarette in her mouth, looking at her only son with such hatred and disappointment.

"You cryin'?" his dad demanded. "Why you cryin', faggot? I ain't even touched ya'…stop cryin' kid." Johnny felt a familiar sense of fear, being in that house.

His mother exhaled the smoke and mumbled under her breath, "I should've aborted you when I had the chance…I've got a queer for a son." Johnny stared at her with his big, black innocent eyes; she shook her head and walked into the kitchen.

His father started up again, "Quit cryin' boy…I'll give ya' something to cry 'bout…" He drank more whiskey. Johnny suddenly wished he was with Ponyboy. "J-Johnny….where were you?..." Johnny stared at his dad; the man was so drunk he could barely stand up straight. Before Johnny could even answer, his dad punched him right in his face. Johnny fell to floor, letting out a whimper, and got on his hands and knees. He spit out blood as he wiped his wet eyes, looking up at the man he was supposed to call his dad. To Johnny, his dad was a monster that you read about in horror stories; he was a giant, he was big, he was strong…he hurt the little things. "You little cocksuckin' faggot….I hate ya' Johnny, you fuckin' queer…" His dad tugged at Johnny's denim jacket, glaring at his son.

Johnny was breathing hard, staring right back. "Y-you tired of hittin' me yet?" he asked sarcastically, regretting it as soon as the words left his mouth. Johnny's father struck him in his eye, cocking back his fist to hit his cheek, then his jaw. He tried stopping him, but his dad was stronger than him. Johnny began to feel dizzy; he felt his limp body drop to the floor. He had blacked out. A few seconds later when his conscience barely came back to him, he felt a sharp pain in his stomach. His old man was kicking him like some old sick dog. He tried stopping him again, but as always, he was too weak. He drifted back into unconsciousness.

Johnny awoke hours later, his vision blurry and the house dark. He tried sitting up, but the pain throughout his body made him groan loudly. He couldn't move. And then he remembered what had happened.

"I…I need to leave…everyone would just be better off if I wasn't around anymore," Johnny mumbled to himself, feeling those tears build up inside his eyes again.

He stood up slowly, whimpering softly at the pain he felt all over. He limped his way into the bathroom, turning on the light that blinded him only for a moment. He was startled by his own reflection in the mirror. Johnny's face was swollen, his right eye was black and purple, bruised up so bad that he couldn't even see out of it; his nose was still bleeding and felt like it was broken. His bottom lip was also swollen. There was a huge gash that began on his lower lip to his chin. Johnny sniffed as he trudged towards the mirror, turning on the sink. He was so shaken up that even the sound of the water pouring out scared him too; he splashed his bloody bruised up face with hot water, the splashes stinging badly. After wiping the water dried up blood and water off his face, he turned off the light. He stood there in the dark for a moment.

"I'll be better off alone, nobody'll notice I'm gone…" He wiped his tears away as he quickly walked out of his dark house. He didn't know where he was going, but he desperately needed to get out of town.