*I don't own The Outsiders.

Yay, I got a new laptop. It's an early Christmas gift, but I'm use to typing on my keyboard on my old computer. It feels so weird, it's taking me longer than usual to type because I make mistakes.

(PPOV)

I stared at myself critically in the mirror. I still looked awful a few weeks after that beating I took from Mr. Lucas. I was scared shitless of him now. Well, I had always been wary, but it was worse now. All my bruising had turned this ugly yellow color. It was worse on my cheek and ribs. Those hurt bad for a while.

Robin was surprisingly helpful the last few weeks, especially the first few days. She didn't baby me or anything, but she helped where she could. I was real thankful because I didn't want to move. I didn't crack any ribs, but it felt like it. Mrs. L. was horrified by the whole ordeal and acted like nothing happened.

Yeah, the only difference is my face looked like a toddler's water painting, but don't worry your husband didn't do that with his fists. He isn't a psychotic asshole who may beat you to death one day! She pisses me off. I don't understand how she can love someone so sadistic.

He laughed at my pain, he enjoyed causing it. I don't know what good she sees in that. Whoever he once was isn't there anymore, or maybe he was always like that and she has developed some mental and emotional problems.

A plausible idea.

Anyway, most of the pain was gone. I could touch my face without wanting to cry. Hell, I could see my face now. My one eye had been swollen, almost completely shut. At least it had been over Winter Break. I didn't have to go to school and make up some excuse to why I looked like I had been put through the mill. I didn't miss any school due to the fact I couldn't move my torso.

Christmas had been bitter sweet. The sweet thing had been I got two shirts and a pair of jeans from Mrs. L. that I actually liked. The bitter part was I would give up anything to spend the holidays with my brothers. I don't even need the gang there, just Darry and Soda.

I miss them more than ever now. I wanted nothing more than to curl up on the couch and watch a movie. I hated this place more than ever. There was nothing here I didn't have at home. In fact, I had more at home.

Guess what the worse part of Christmas was: No tree, ornaments, lights, or anything of the sort. Mrs. Lucas is Catholic and Mr. Lucas is Jewish, guess whose religious beliefs we followed. Yeah, you got it, Mr. L.'s. We still exchanged Christmas gifts though, because I'm Catholic and Mrs. L wouldn't give up her religion for anyone. She even goes to mass every Sunday.

Way to go Mrs. L., you stick up for yourself on one account.

I know I wasn't being fair, but really bitter. I didn't care. I didn't have to like either of them; I just can't wrap my head around staying with a man like that. It's really said, but it still upsets me.

One of the good things the holiday did bring was letters from the gang. I'm pretty sure that Soda had something to do with the entire gang writing back to me. I had been expecting Dar and Soda to write, I wouldn't say I'd be surprised to find something from Johnny and Two-Bit, but I wasn't at all expecting something from Dallas and Steve. Thank goodness I wasn't eating anything when I read those letters, or I would've chocked when I came across their letter.

I almost died laughing when Soda's letter included a detailed description of Darry getting his hand stuck up a turkey's ass. I knew something had to happen, our holidays always had some unthinkable event happen. I was upset to hear that Sandy got pregnant with someone else's kid. Soda was really upset about it still. I can't believe someone would do that to him, he treats everyone with nothing but kindness. He treated Sandy like a princess. I'll make sure to tell him that it is her lost. I know everyone says that, but it is true. What makes me feel worse is I believed that she was nice. I can tell Soda still loves her.

Darry wrote mainly about his concerns that had to do with me eating enough and school. He didn't touch much on what was happening with him personally. I was wondering whether or not he was dating. I wasn't there to worry about (though he still does) and he has one less mouth to feed, which means he doesn't have to work as much. I figured he would start dating again. I was disappointed, he didn't mention dating. No one else did either, which they would have if Darry was. I hope he does soon; Darry deserves to have a good time too.

Johnny's letter was surprisingly long. He was missing me a bit, though he tried to hide it. His parents were treating him worse. They always treated him worse around the holidays. I think it's because they have no money for nice stuff, or maybe they just can't deal with the Christmas Spirit.

Johnny's parents are two more people you can add to the 'Pony Hates' list.

Steve and Dally's were basically saying that they hoped I was having a good time. Steve promised to eat the food I left behind for me, he'd think about me while he did so. I don't know if this was supposed to make me feel good, or if he was being an ass. I'm thinking both. Steve has skills like that; he can piss you off and comfort you, all with one sentence. Does that even make sense? Dally told me why he had to spend some time in jail for taking a leak in a public place. (I guess he didn't learn the last time that happened.)

Two-Bit's letter was really long. He was putting those extra years of high school English classes to good use for the first time and just went with it (his words, not mine). He told me all about some gossip about this girl that I have no clue about. I was confused through a good portion of that page. The next page touched on some of the girls he has been dating, with a detailed description of them all. To say the least, that took a while. Some of Two-Bit's details, however, were a little too detailed. Either way, I appreciated the time he took to write it all. I was happy to get some information about home.

I could practically hear their voice reading to me as I read the letters. I felt closer to home, but the fact I wasn't there sent a knife through my heart. I'd even go as far to say that being away from Tulsa hurt more than Mr. Lucas' beating.

I sighed, wanting to get away from depressing thoughts.

Oh, I got some news for everyone: I shave now!

Okay, okay, I know it took long enough, right? But, I am proud to say that I started shaving before Soda. (I'm fourteen and Soda started shaving at fifteen. I didn't beat Darry, he started at thirteen. He's a freak of nature, who starts to shave at thirteen…okay I know that's bull, but I'm trying to make myself feel better. )

My first shaving session didn't go like I thought it would. Over the break I noticed that I finally had enough hair on my face to shave. The problem was I didn't know exactly what to do. It wasn't like I was going to ask someone for help, I understood the mechanics.

I fumbled around with the can of shaving cream. I put an even coat across my jaw line and face. I felt kind of stupid as I looked at myself in the mirror. It looked like I had a mishap with a can of whip cream. I was still slightly unhappy that my brothers weren't here helping me. They were the next best thing to my Dad. It didn't matter now, looked like I had to do this on my own.

I looked at the razor, sending a prayer up to heaven that I wouldn't slit my throat. How embarrassing would that be?

Cause of Death: Slit throat while shaving, accidental. Case close.

There's no way Two-Bit would be able to go to my funeral and keep a straight face. I know he cares and would be upset, but how do you now laugh at something like that? If I read that in the paper I would laugh about it.

I was about to start, I leaned forward, looking in the mirror. This caused me to knock over the shaving cream, causing me to jump and the razor to fly. The can finally settled with a final ring in the sink. I starred wide eyed; death by shaving didn't seem too farfetched anymore.

There was a knock on the door, "I'll be out soon!" I yelled.

Robin's muffled voice filtered in through the door, "What are you doing? It sounded like an avalanche in there."

I just told her to go away, but for some reason she came in anyway. For all she knew, I could have been taking a crap. "What the hell! Get out!"

She looked at me casually, "We live together, what's the big deal?"

How about the fact she's a girl and in the bathroom when I'm trying to shave!

I glared. "I didn't know you shaved. Have you ever shaved before?" She asked.

I hoped the shaving cream hid my blush. I think she saw it. To make matters worse, a glob of shaving cream fell of my face, onto my shirt. I huffed in embarrassed annoyance.

Instead of the teasing I thought I was going to get, she sighed. It sounded slightly sad, I didn't understand why.

"Well, one thing is, you need a razor." I didn't meet her eyes as I pointed to the other side of the room. When I jumped, the razor hit the wall and landed on the floor. She gave me a confused look and retrieved it.

"Don't throw razor, Pony. Same idea applies to knives, scissors, and anything else sharp," she flashed me a smile. She was talking to me like I was six, instead of a teenager.

I stood they're mortified as I realized she was going to help me. Robin noticed, "Everyone has help the first time they shave. Well not everyone, but no offence, you don't seem to be getting real far by yourself. Just imagine me as one of your brothers or something."

I snorted, "That's not weird at all." I forced myself to relax.

Robin took my hand and placed the razor in it. "Now, gently go across your skin," she still had my hand, then she rubbed the back. I looked at her confused and she did it again, "No harder than that, or you'll cut your pretty face to ribbons. Now go ahead."

I turned nervously, I looked in the mirror. I cut myself once on my jaw line, but other than that, everything went smoothly. Robin sat patiently on the toilet seat and watched. I guess she was making sure I didn't slit my throat. I finished and I heard clapping from the corner.

I glared at her. Robin just chuckled; she took my jaw and made me face her, "Not bad."

She left the bathroom and I took a few deep breaths, trying to recover from my mortification.

Note to self: Never tell the gang about this.

I'm happy I can shave now. I'm still a little embarrassed, but Robin never said anything about it. Thank God.

As happy as I am, I'm just as sad. It was just another moment I lost with my brothers. I swear I was counting down the days until I could leave this place.

Robin barged into my room, breaking my thoughts.

"Want to go to the movies with me?" She asked.

I nodded. She grabbed my hand, dragging me out of the house.

I don't know why, but I grinned when she didn't let go.

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