Chapter 10: New Faces, White Walls, And Guns Drawn
Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I do not own "The Outsiders" or any of the Curtis' Gang. :( Sad. The real owner of "The Outsiders" is my favorite author, the fabulous S.E. Hinton. I also do not make a profit from the stories that I write here on this site.
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Ponyboy's POV; (February 12th, 1968; 11:26 P.M.)
Dream:
It started off just like any other hunting day years ago. I had my old, silver, semi-automatic gun slung over my shoulder while my two older brothers had their own guns slung around their shoulders too. The bright, hot, Oklahoma sun beat down on my neck, shining into my green-grey eyes, making them water slightly if I looked up at the sun too long. I was sweating through my layers, although it was slightly cold out with the wind whipping through the forest. I could smell the freshness in the air.
It's going to rain, I observed vaguely.
Our duck blind was pretty cramped with four grown boys, and I wasn't exactly looking forward to sitting in there for hours. I could see it in the far distance, just a few hundred yards away as we walked through the recently plowed field.
I glanced up at the bright blue sky and saw a few ducks flying free in the air. I raised my gun, aiming through the site and pulling the trigger, but the shot rang out behind me. I turned just in time to see Sodapop hit the ground with a loud thud, blood pooling out of his chest and onto his fingers and the brown, crinkled leaves under him. I rushed to his side and moved his hand away from his chest to get a better look. He took a shaky, gasping breath.
I killed him I killed him I killed him, I repeated in my head, basically screaming in a panic to myself. My hands were shaking. I just killed my brother.
"Soda," I mumbled, thrashing around in the thick, warm covers. "Soda! D-Don't leave me," I begged. I slowly became aware of the scratchiness of the covers. Sodapop and I's covers were never rough; they were soft and smooth.
I slowly dragged open the weights that I called my eyelids and set my eyes on Darry, who was sitting across from me in a chair, dead asleep. I finally, with a wave of consciousness, became aware that I was in an hospital.
I choked on the lump in my throat and muffled my rough coughing with the blankets, begging that Darry wouldn't wake up to the noise. He didn't, thankfully; I knew that he had to be exhausted by now.
I heard a tentative, soft tapping outside the door and then the click of it opening. My jaw dropped open at the figure it reviewed, standing in front of me, as real as life itself.
"Ponyboy," she greeted, her voice clear. Her blue eyes sparkled with concern and anxiety.
"S-Sandy?" I breathed hoarsely.
Aufenthalt Gold,
~Alee xXx
