This chapter is a mess. This entire story is one as well, so it's not saying much. Figured I should give a little more of Bonnie's perspective for this one. Hope I haven't bored you readers to death!
Soda's eyelids are sealed, and his form—enhanced from the pained efforts of army training—had gone slack, sprawled over an unmade bed and exposed to the world. Exposed to Bonnie Perez that is, who isn't afraid to squeeze him tight, despite the thought trailing in the corners of her mind that it's only a matter of time before the gateways to the jungle open.
The room was left in tatters, dilapidated and weathered at its edges. Faded, cracked wallpaper enclosed around the two—bound as one in a mattress hanging above what could be considered a slab of metal. But beyond that was the drugs—pills and spoons and needles—it could all be named, found in the paraphernalia scattered about.
The only glimmer of light comes from a single window, curtainless and often times stinging to the eyes. But it's the defect that makes it a haven for Sodapop Curtis and Bonnie Perez because in a place as rundown as it stands, the pair don't stand out for their own.
Despite the blue that's shriveled from a sky, replaced with a darkness specked in particles of light, Bonnie's eyes—emptied in weariness— couldn't will themselves to close. She's hooked onto the smell of Soda's skin, the sinful touch and all-embracing the whole package.
Her thoughts slither in a mind that feels as if it could burst, from darkness hidden in the far end to the deep contemplation in the tail of her eyes. It doesn't stop, refuses to give her a pass into the nothingness she craves. Bonnie's breath carries a hitch when it's strayed beyond the safety of the sidewalk. She's found no pleasure in the unwanted memory, but it comes to her slamming like a truck.
"You said you'd try," Bonnie whispers into Soda's ear, her lover's pathway to sound caught off guard. As he shifts to face her, his brows are furrowed with a confusion that she can't concede—taken with an expression that belongs to the same energy as if she'd slapped him in a face. It's when his mouth doesn't give into a response that she starts explaining. "Don't you try to love me?"
It's another one of those bickering moments that come and go in waves. An event that happens so often that Soda's always got the right words to speak—the slick use of words and phrases that shove her into a daze. "Who said I needed to try and love you? You're my everythin', darlin'."
But this time, inside Bonnie's gut belongs an insatiable inclination. She allows an exasperated sigh to escape her lips and states, "You ever think 'bout the future, Soda? Think we can live like this for the rest of our lives?"
"We'll live like this until it gives out on us. We'll figure it out, Bon-Bon. I always do," Soda response from the truth of his heart, though it's the last phrase that articulates in lies. "I'll quit the smack, buy a house in the suburbs. We'll have that good ol' nuclear family."
"I don't think we're ever quittin', baby," Bonnie's suddenly batted off his embrace on her skin. She continues, despite how she doesn't a know a clue about the Sodapop Curtis that isn't hooked on heroin, the man stemmed from the blasted war that she's grown to give love towards, even when it's not every time it's returned."Wish you could see it ain't that easy. It's screwing us up, but it's the only thing besides each other that we've got,"
"Shut your goddamn mouth and let me sleep," he sneers, and it's obvious he's let his delusions take over. It takes a heartbeat in time for his breaths to become short and rapid, fuming in anger. "Might as well let yourself sleep, too. Tomorrow's that damned 'Nam protest and I know you're itchin' for me to go."
Another day had slipped away from grasp, and along with that came another night where she's left holding onto thin air. She doesn't understand the yearning that troubles her consciousness, leaves her wondering why she's empty without a touch that isn't based on her hopes of love. Bonnie's tear ducts are cracked from excessive use, rusted from the stressing of a man. But as the outer perspective shows she's brokenhearted, it's not his disappearance that's left her torn.
She's jerked out of bed in the speed of a flash, and that's when her feet begin pacing across the wooden floor. Bonnie's weak knees and tired eyes beg for the bed, but tonight's left for contemplation. Perhaps It's the reason you sleep at night when the dark—from the sky to the horrors of humanity—come to play. Tonight, under the very moonlight, the darkness includes herself.
Tulsa General Hospital calls out her name, each shout louder than the last. It's far from visiting hours, halfway into the dawn of midnight but her figure is fidgety. Even with a frame that doesn't rest, her mind's deep in a state of hesitation. And as with every moment that transpires inside the depths of consciousness, she's going with the gut instinct that says she's not ready for Sodapop Curtis.
She approaches the window and yanks it open, lungs submerged into the whispering wind that's easier to breathe than the heaviness that's become the interior. Below her watch is a smoldering hump of logs still ignites—where the smells of weed and patchouli remain after the gathering has left no one in its wake. As she unearths peace in the cinders of a dwindling flame, she knows what's below is the mirror into the feeling deep within her tarnished soul.
The farmhouse Bonnie had considered home since the days of youth—memories of being cooped up in a room with family members in names she can't remember—they were never enough from the beginning. Visions of trauma embedded in the brain, yet she finds herself bringing the dough to the front door to keep a distant family under the plunging waters of debt.
All of the sins committed without forgiveness, in a justification called sacrifice hadn't made a dent to the horrors that ensued time after time. The most sinister of family secrets—flashbacks driven to cold sweats and outcries in the night—all swept under the rug. All above the pain, which had Bonnie Perez rebuilt from human into a sack of bones.
It was the best morning it could've been inside the home. The soothing of the calm still hadn't ceased well into the afternoon and one thing was true that the birds singing was a nice touch. But it wasn't the gift of a blue, crisp day that relieved the boys under the roof. The best happened to lie in the impression that the storm—not quite the ones that cursed the skies—had dissolved once and for all.
Ponyboy muscles lay slack on a dining table chair as he gorges himself on a breakfast meal prepared by his own hands. His brothers, all except for one surrounding the dining table, immersed in the first lively banter in what seemed like the first time in forever. Darry's sickness had faded, his appetite making it's way back and in his little brother's eyes it was all that mattered—to see the family in good health and mental soundness.
"You know, we got a call from the hospital not too long ago," Darry unveils, right before stuffing a heap of eggs into his mouth. His eyes study every member of the gang to be positive the phrase hasn't left a soul on edge. "Soda's up for visitors. Any of y'all up to see him?"
"Hell yeah, man! I'm gonna go ahead and figure that's a good thing," Two-Bit happens to articulate in his signature brash volume. "Ain't that right, Pone?"
"I sure hope so," the words roll off his tongue with a touch of conviction, and it's a surprise from a skeptic in circumstance. His head shifts towards his older brother with a pleading stare. "Think you should go, Dar. I know you've been missing him,"
However, his big brother's green-blue orbs don't don't bat off on the meal before him to notice. Neither does he see the frown that plagues Ponyboy's face, the one bestowed because he knows within those eyes, he's trying to overlook. Darry's tone is dull, almost mechanic when he mutters, "I'll see what I can do with my schedule. Work starts real early tomorrow."
"Think you're well enough to go to work? You were in bedrest not too long ago fighting off that flu," Steve points out in the midst of conversation, eyebrows furrowed in an expression of concern. Nobody tells, but everyone can see how Superman's bones still drag. From how his eyelids droop and slip from time to time and most of all, in the way he struggles to keep a smile from scurrying off the woods. "We don't want you falling off a roof or anything like that."
A few aggravated sighs jump from his lungs, carried out by his mouth past his lips. He shakes his head with an adamant force, "Y'all are wild. I'm doing just fine. I've had more than enough time to recover." He shifts to look his kid brother in the eye and drops his tone. "Don't worry, Pone. I'll make somethin' out."
"Think Bonnie should get the memo? I don't know, man. She's shady but I kinda dig her," Two-Bit's voice rises from the chewing-induced silence. His brows are gathered on his forehead, the corners of his mouth contorting into a crooked smile. "You ever wonder what went on between 'em?"
One mention of that woman and he's snarling like a pit bull in the pound, an almost cartoon shade of red springing from the depths of anger to accommodate his face. "Heroin is what went on between them. I bet you all that smack he's brought in the home, it's been taken by her without cost." Cold droplets of sweat break out on his brow. This time, the temperature's rising and it isn't from a fever.
Two-Bit isn't hesitant to bring some sense to the plate it belongs and though his temper is one in the same, it's not only red that covers his sight. "Relax, Superman. It was just a suggestion. Besides, we don't know the full story. All we know is that she's been cryin' herself a river since he fell into that episode."
"Knowing her, I think she's already found out. That broad don't stop," the words roll of Pony's tongue without a struggle, though his appearance shrieks that something's far out of place. In the speed of light, he swerves the conversation into another avenue, "Well, I'm gonna head off to the hospital. It's been one hell of a week without him. Anyone else wanna go?"
Steve's risen from his seat, coming up from behind to give Darry's shoulder a pat. He's got more than a request when he asks, "Why don't we all go? That includes you, Darry," and Darry knows in the hand of Soda's best friend, there's not a single objection to be in the matter. Tulsa General Hospital is the next destination, but how can a broken brother fix the other, equally shattered to pieces?
Thanks for reading. I appreciate it, and so are reviews! :)