Disclaimer- I do not own The Outsiders

"You scared me out of my wits kid."

I liked my lips and fingered my cast. I winced. It hurt.

"I thought you were having a heart attack. He scares you that much?"

I closed my eyes. I wasn't stupid. I knew who Darry was talking about. I could picture Richard Davenport's eyes boring into me. I shuddered. "Yeha."

"I hate him. I hate him so much but you know what kiddo?"

I turned my head to look at Darry. He gave me an awkward glance. "Sometimes I hate myself worse."

I tilted my head. "That day you were kidnapped…." He just sat straight and stiff. Darry, the rock. "It was partially my fault. I was sick too. Mom she stayed with me. If she hadn't……"

I sighed. Darry shouldn't blame himself… I went with Davenport. What was he getting at anyway?

"I had to live eight years without my little brother. I'm not so good at this big brother thing, but you know I care about you kid. I care about what happens. It scares me that Davenport has such an effect on you."

I sighed. Darry joined me. "I know it's hard for you, remembering and all but…. I think it's good for you kid. I would never want to do anything to hurt you but it helps to face your fears. Dad always tells me and Soda that if you keep ignoring something it won't go away. I know that this will never go away but I think knowing you helped put that monster behind bars might help you. When I fight in a rumble it feels real good being the one to bring down a guy who I wronged. I know you don't have to go back to that stand Ponyboy but if you don't he's still got power of you. I can't stand it for you to feel that way. You deserve to be the one to hold the aces this time, huh?"

What Darry said actually made sense. It made sense.

His words echoed in my mind. My brother was right. So long as I let myself live in fear of Davenport, of those memories, I could never be happy. I had to do this. I had to for me and for my family. It was the only way I could think to get rid of the guilt and the pain. Oh they may always be there. But it would certainly help ease them.

"Tell mom I'll do it. I'm going back to the stand."

"Ponyboy can you tell the court again where you were the night of December 11th, 1965?"

"I can do this I can do this I can do this…" Silence. "I can't do this."

I lifted my eyes to look over at my family. Soda and Darry gave me and encouraging thumbs up. I sighed.

"I was in the hospital."

"Can you tell us why."

"I had been shot."

"Is that all."

"Be strong. You have to do this. You have to do this."

"I was also beaten."

"By who?" I did not look up. This was hard enough but I knew if I looked at Davenport I would be completely lost. I knew I couldn't do this if I saw him. I couldn't….

I licked my lips. "Richard Davenport."

"Did you perhaps do anything to provoke this? Did you attack Richard Davenport. Did you turn on this man?"

"NO NO NO……." I felt sick. I shouldn't have gone through with this….

"Objection your honor. The defense is badgering the witness."

"Objection sustained. Please follow the proper protocol."

"of course your honor.

"Very well Mr. Curtis can you please tell us what happened on the night of the eleventh.."

Could I?

It was what I guess you could call a typical night for me. The man I called father was in one of his moods. I had been in the closet for two days, no food of which to speak. In some ways I was happy about it. Hunger pains are hard to deal with but anything that kept me away from Davenport was a blessing.

There are spiders on the floor. I don't mind them so much any more. Some days it seemed like they were the only friends I had. The closet was dark, damp. My stomach rumbled. I groaned. I was so hungry. I shook my head I couldn't think about that now. The closet was safe. It was safe….

"I..I..I.."

"So you can't construct a lie…"

"Your honor…"

"You're on thin ice Mahoney…"

The closet door was yanked open and the light blinded me. Father was yelling a string of cuss words so fast I couldn't hear them or in the very least I couldn't make them out. He wasn't in a good mood at all. I think he might have been drunk.

"Get up!"

I shivered. I didn't want to. I wanted to stay in the closet. The closet was safe.

"I said get up!"

I still didn't move, paralyzed with fear.

The man I called father yanked me up by my arm and literally flung me out of the closet.

"Get dressed you have a customer coming tonight"

I wondered briefly what kind of sick pervert it would be this time.

"I said get dressed."

So… I did as I was told. I saw the 'customer' but things didn't go right. He didn't want to pay. He'd gotten at it with father. Apparently I wasn't a good ride, not a challenge. I took the blame for it.

And father, who was already angry, was now livid. I got the beating of my life. He yanked me up by my arm and tiwisted it behind my soldier. A string of obsenaties slipped from his mouth as he kicked my feet out from under me………

"Nothing, I did nothing."

The defense attorney scowled. He wasn't happy that he was wrong… I didn't want to think about this. I didn't want him angry. Attorneys couldn't turn on their witnesses could they?

"You're safe Ponyboy. You're safe."

"Can you describe what happened for the court?"

I gulped. My palms were clammy. My breathing was becoming heavier. I looked up. I saw my parents, my real flesh and blood, loved me to death parents. They smiled wearily at me.

"You have to do this. You have to do this…. They're going to hate you for it. They're going to think you're a disgusting little pervert whore. They're not going to want to have anything to do with you.

"No, they wouldn't think that. They've stood by you this how time. They love you. It's not your fault. You have to do this. You need to…"

I took a deep breath and told the prosecutor. I told him about the closet. I told him about the costumer, not waiting to hear the gaps and replies from everyone else in the room. I described the beating… ...

He threw me back in the closet when he was done. I could barley move, barley breath. My eyes opened to slits, no further. I couldn't think straight. The door opened. Father was back. I could barely make out that he as swaying unsteadily. He was drunk again, high as a kite too. Something had changed though…

He had a gun. He had a gun! I was scared now. I knew I was going to get it…..

"…………….and then. He. He shot me." The defense attorney gulped. Nodded and turned away.

"No further question your honor. "

I sighed in relief going to sit down by my mother. I broke down sobbing. I didn't need this. I didn't need to remember these things….. I could still see the gun pointed at me, hear father's voice. …..

Mom pulled me to her and held me. I jerked away. I couldn't….. I…. I…. She was just trying to help but she was making it worse. For some reason all I could see, all I could feel was that last customer, the one that nearly cost me my life….

When, when will I ever be able to just be a kid? When will things ever be normal for me?