Disclaimer- I do not own The Outsiders

The Christmas lights made the tree look awfully pretty. I don't think I can remember ever seeing one up close before. Father… Davenport, he never cared for them. I was transfixed. Most of the ornaments were half broken or dusted, all old. And still the tree was probably one of the most beautiful things I had ever seen in my life. I wish I could get out my sketch pad and draw it.

A strong hand rested on my shoulder and I flinched.

"What are you gawking at?"

I didn't look up.

"Answer me when I talk to you boy."

A pair of strong arms swung me around. Father yanked my chin toward him. "I said look at me."

I gulped. "N...nothing father…"

He put a strong hand around my neck and squeezed. I gasped for air and closed my eyes.

"Tree." I croaked.

"What tree?"

I pointed out the window. The neighbors had a big tree with lights all around it. I knew it was something to do with Christmas but I couldn't get my head around the idea.

He squeezed harder and brought me down to my knees. I got a swift kick to the stomach.

"What the Christmas tree? Pathetic! You think you got presents under it? You think Santa's going to leave them there? Are do you think it's pretty, mm?"

I didn't answer. I just lay stiff and still. "Useless, worthless load of shit. I can't even believe why they bother. Wanna no a secret kid. Five days from now that tree will be wilted on the side of the road. All that money down the drain...."

Father laughed and gave me another swift kick. "Not a bad idea for a piece of garbage though..." He stroked his chin as if thinking. "Might put you on the side of the road if you don't behave."

I gulped. Father lifted me up. His mood, foul once more. "You need to get that pathetic head of your out of the clouds and learn to be a real man. Gawking at a Christmas tree… are you a little girl Charles, do you wear frilly dresses and play with dollies?"

I shook my head. "Only little girls like pretty things. Do you think the tree's pretty? Only little girlies stare at stuff like that. Are you a pansy Charles? "

"Easy Pony..."

The hand on my shoulder softened its grip and I tore myself from the first memory I had of Christmas. I'd only been five years old. I can still remember the beating. I shivered.

I turned to face the hand's owner. My dad...

"Are you okay Pony?"

I nodded my head. "You can open your presents after dinner. The rest of the family is waiting on you. Your mother worked hard on it. I'd hate to disappoint them. They can't be mad at me. They can't be mad at me. They can't……

"Come on buddy. Dinner's going to get cold." I nodded. I can't let it get cold. Mom will get mad. If I ruin their dinner…. I bit my lip. I didn't want to cause trouble. Who knows what could happen…….

DARRY

Pony hadn't been vocal since his little singing outburst last night. He was pale and shaking as he was eating. He should be enjoying the food. This is some of mom's best work. He should be laughing with the rest of us. He should be smiling. But he just…. It's like he's just going through the motions. It's not right. It's just not right.

I've been wondering lately what things would be like, if they were different. What would Pony be like if he had never been kidnapped? Would he have been happy? Would he be energetic like Soda or more like me?

If only I had not have been sick that day. Mom would have been with him and he would have been with us all this time. He would be laughing, enjoying his supper instead of picking at his plate…..

Ponyboy

I'd lost my appetite and I was sorry. The food was good, great even; but I didn't feel like eating. Everybody else was laughing, chattering away but as usual I was quiet.

I never know what to say. I don't like to talk to begin with... You never know what will get you in trouble. But I feel so out of place here. What kind of person am I to feel like a stranger in what is supposed to be my own family?

I'd felt fin looking at the Christmas tree. But then the memories hit and boom, I was back where I started. Sometimes I wonder if I will ever fit in, will I ever be comfortable happy here. Most of the time I don't even know what happy is.

* * * * * * * * *

Soda

Mom smiled and handed Pony the first gift. He looked up at her, his cheeks blushing. He looked down at the gift and just sort of touched it. He looked back up. Mom sat down beside him. "You can open it Pony. Go ahead. You don't have to ask."

I looked at Darry and dad. Dad had his face tightly drawn and Darry resembled him completely. How can he have ask to open a present? I felt angry wondering if my brother had ever been given a present before now.

Mom gave his good arm a reassuring squeeze, feather light. "Do you need help opening it?"

Pony just stared at the gift for a moment. He looked at his casted arm and nodded. She smiled softly and pushed his hair back. Pony stiffened and mom sighed.

She touched his hand. "Let's see what you got, hmmm?"

He nodded softly and her hand grazed his. She opened it softly to reveal a white box. Pony slid the lid off. It was a brilliant green sweater, hand knitted. My mom is a wonder. Pony touched it softly. His lips twitched and he looked like he was going to cry.

"I hope you like it. I thought the green would look wonderful with those beautiful green eyes of yours."

Pony blushed and let out a sob, all because of a sweater. Mom made them for us every year.

Sobs racked Pony's body. Mom held him close. He stiffened as she rocked him. "SSHHH."

She kissed his hair. "I love you, it's the least I could do for you. You should have had a million Christmases with us, a thousand presents."

Pony clutched the sweater. He bit his lip. "Thank you… mom."

Mom's eyes watered. I don't think he realized it but we none of us could have given her a better present.

I hope this is good. I try to understand what it is like to be so emotionally and mentally wounded but it is hard to do. I hope I did it justice.