"Darry I'm headed to the bookstore!" I said as I looked at him with pleading eyes. He just nodded and sat back in his armchair, glancing at Two-Bit every-so-often, who had his eyes glued to the T.V., distracted by the little mouse, who was somehow a source of entertainment for the whole gang. I walked out of the house and flipped my switchblade in between my fingers. It had been two years since Johnny and Dallas passed away. I'm 16 now, and I haven't been dealing with their deaths in the most efficient way.

I looked both ways before crossing the road and heading into an old, rusty gas station where I met my dealer at. I walked in the station, avoiding the scattered pieces of wood that were on the floor. Then I saw him, his back was against the wall and he looked high as a kite. Eyes red, hands shaking as he took another puff of his cigarette. I handed him the money that I stole from Darry's wallet. He tossed 2 small bags to me—one paper and one that was plastic which held the contents of heroin and marijuana in them. I quickly stuffed them in my coat and walked on home. While I was walking home, I decided to stop by at the DX and say hi to my older brother, Sodapop. Walking into the gas station, Steve looked at me in disgust. Why did he have to be working the front desk today?

"Jesus, kid. You look like hell. What happened to you?"

I just shrugged and smirked. "Sometimes when you try new things it seems too good to be true," I laughed a bit. "But it turns out to be better than you anticipated. Then it takes over your whole life." Steve looked at me worriedly then turned to Sodapop when he heard him come in from the garage.

"Hey, Pony," Soda cracked a light smile. "Darry called earlier today. Said he went out for grocery shopping and when he went to pay his wallet was empty. Do you know what happened?" I shook my head quickly and gazed down at the floor, not wanting them to see the guilt in my eyes. Sodapop sighed and patted my back. "This is gonna be a rough couple weeks until Darry and I get paid again. Might see if Mrs. Mathews can help us out a bit." Nodding, I headed out the doors of the DX immediately feeling guilty. Why was I so selfish to take everything for myself and not even recognize the fact that we have other things to worry about?

I got home and immediately sat on the couch and put my head in my hands. I was going through withdrawals now, I haven't had my tar in a good two and a half days. It was getting so bad that I hadn't even realized that I was crushing Two-Bit's legs from sitting on them. Two-Bit winced in pain and moved his legs from under me.

"Jesus, kid! Watch it!" I rolled my eyes at him and went up to my room, which I no longer shared with Sodapop. I could hear Two-Bit talking to me as I went to my room. He was saying things along the lines of "Hey, man, you alright?" or "I didn't mean to offend you!" or "Dammit, Pony, I'm tryna be nice here. I'm sorry!"

I sat on the floor and grabbed my tourniquet, wrapping it around my arm as I grabbed the paper bag out of my coat and fished the syringe from under my mattress. I opened the bag and grabbed one of the four small jars. The syringe sucked up the clear substance. Once it was full enough, I injected it onto a spoon, mixing it with other drugs as I burnt the bottom of the utensil. Once that was done, I tapped the joint of my forearm, prepping it and making sure it was a stable place for the syringe to inject the drug. Almost immediately, I held the syringe to my forearm and let out a sigh of relief as I injected the fiery substance and laid on my bedroom floor, letting my thoughts get to me. I closed my eyes, forgetting about the syringe in my arm. I didn't care. I felt so . . . at peace. Like I could just never bother waking up again. I heard a knock on my door, but I didn't answer, I didn't want to be bothered by anyone today. I heard another knock on the door and just sighed.

"Ponyboy? You in there?" Darry. Darry's gonna beat the tar out of me if he finds me like this. He's not supposed to be home. I bet Steve snitched on me. I thought Steve was too much of an idiot to understand what I was saying. Turns out, I was wrong. I still couldn't muster up enough strength to pull myself off the floor. I let out a few grunts and struggled to breathe as I attempted to get up. But I guess that's when I felt it . . .

You know that feeling . . . when you can't feel your body, like you've lost all control over it? And you just lay there. Your heart eventually stops pounding, your lungs give out, and then, eventually, your brain stops working. All I can hear is Darry's pounding on the door, then ramming his body into it, until it eventually breaks down. I hear him let out a sob as he sees how helpless I look. He's screaming Two-Bit's name, telling him to call 9-1-1 as he pulls the syringe out of my arm. Everything went by in slow motion. My mouth and chin was covered in vomit and I could hear police sirens after a few minutes. The sirens were like music to my ears and I remember almost smiling at the thought. The blue and red flashing lights made me want to cover my eyes, but my brain wouldn't listen. Then I blacked out. All I remember is the lights and how my life was flashing before my eyes.

My body felt weak and gritty when I woke up. All I heard was the sound of the heart monitor and two deep voices chatting outside the hospital room.

"Please, Doc. 9 months is nothing! He'll wake up before too long. It's too early to pull the plug," said a pleading voice. It sounded like Darry's. At this point, I was too unsure.

"Mr. Curtis, Ponyboy has barely shown any signs of progress. It's a miracle that his heart's still beating," I hear the man sigh. "But, I do suppose that it's your decision whether to take him off his life support or not. Though, if and or when he wakes, he will most likely suffer severe brain injuries."

"Like what?" Darry asks.

"The signs are unclear right now, but he may have some learning and walking disabilities. But, again, to reassure you, we are still very unsure."

I sighed as I got tired of eavesdropping on their conversation. I looked at the remote on the bedside table. It had a white button and the words "click to summon nurse." I clicked the button and when the nurse opened the door, there were many surprised looks.

Darry looked as if he was going to break down crying. He scurried into the room and took a knee right next to the bed as my nurse was prepping a needle to draw blood from me. I turned my head to look at Darry and smiled lightly at him. He took my hand and pressed it against his lips.

"I-I didn't think we were ever going to see your eyes open again, Pony. You had us scared to death."

"Are you mad?" I asked as I laid my head back on my pillow and looked at the ceiling.

"Naw, baby. I ain't mad. I just wish you told us what was going on sooner." I could feel Darry staring daggers into me. I faced towards him and smiled.

"When can I see the boys?" Darry thought for a second. Almost like he was thinking about letting them know right now. I guess he decided against it, however.

"Well, I would let them see you today, but the doctors have a lot of questions and blood tests that you have to do. We'll see about tomorrow, okay?" I nod distinctively and look down at my arms. Gee, these needle marks and scars sure make me look tuff, huh? Naw. There ain't nothin' tuff about a past with drugs. There ain't nothin' cool about drugging yourself up until you go into a coma for nine God damned months. Am I a miracle or am I just staying to be tortured again for doing absolutely nothing? That's right, I remember. I did do somethin'. I killed Johnny Cade and Dally. I killed my best buddies all because I was too chicken-shit about Darry slapping me. I deserved it. I shouldn't have stayed out long with Dally and Johnny.