(Ponyboy's POV)
I stepped out into the warm sunlight from the dark movie house. The weather was nice today, perfect walking weather. I had quite a ways to walk in order to get home with no company. Usually, I would have my twin sister, Bexley, with me. The two of us would go in and enjoy the movie, so we could live each moment with the actors. This time, she wasn't with me. But I didn't mind it though; we both have our independence.
Bexley and I are inseparable, always glued to the hip. We have been ever since we were little, little kids. We're both fourteen now and nothing has changed between us. Not to mention that we're the youngest of the family, or the 'babies'.
Bexley has messy dark brown hair that comes down to her shoulders and has bangs covering part of her forehead. Her eyes are darker green than mine. As for me, my hair is an auburn color and my eyes are greyish-green. My hair's longer than most of the boys in our neighborhood. Bexley is the only she-grease of our gang, but she doesn't mind. We treat her like one of the guys.
What I love about Bexley is her personality. She inherited our mother's nurturing side. Not only that, but she's spunky and is loyal when it comes to our family and friends. She's one of the toughest girls I know, not one of those girls that wears a lot of make-up and swears too much.
I'm a greaser too and nobody in our neighborhood rarely bothers to get a haircut. Bexley and I aren't like the other greasers, I guess. We're bookworms that go to the library and love to watch movies at the Movie House. It was something that we could talk about amongst ourselves.
Our second eldest brother Sodapop, or Soda, has never once cracked open a book, nor has he sat still long enough to watch a movie all the way through. He is turning 17 in October, which is a couple of months from now. His hair is dark gold that he usually combs back. His eyes are chocolate dark brown, dancing yet reckless eyes and he's got a goofy grin that you cannot help but love. Soda dropped out of school a little bit after he turned sixteen, and has a job at the DX that's in town. He works there with his best buddy, Steve Randle.
Bexley and I aren't like Soda and Darry. Darry doesn't have time to be interested in reading or watch a movie, he works too hard for that. Not to mention, they bore him to death. Soda tries to be more understanding, which is more better than Darry.
Our eldest brother, Darry, would skin the both of us if he knew that we were alone. So I hoped that I'd make it home before he does. I hoped that Bexley was home before him.
Ever since our parents were killed in a car accident, Darry had been on our cases for every little thing. He expected A's from the both of us while we were in school. It was as if neither one of us could impress him. With the way he treats us, it begged the question if he did love us or not. We get to stay together as long as we behaved.
Greasers can't walk alone for too long or else they'll get jumped by Socs. Guess none of us knew how dangerous it was until it's too late. Darry's a bit more strict around Bexley, just because she happens to be a girl. She was one of our priorities that we keep our eyes open for her.
The Socs were the rich kids, West-side rich kids, the jet set, the lucky ones with all of the breaks. Unlike us, we live on the poorer side of the tracks, lower class. But we're both wild in our own ways. The Greasers are like hoods, best known for getting into a fight, or robbin' a gas station, even drive old beat up cars. If Darry caught Bexley and I doing any of that, he'd skin us both. The Socs often get drunk, throw beers for kicks, and jump a Greaser whenever they get the chance too.
I kept walking along in peace until I was two blocks away from home. And the sound of a red Corvair broke the silence, catching my attention really quick. When I did notice it, I picked up my pace. Needless to say, it didn't help much. In a matter of seconds, the Corvair pulled up in front of me, blocking my path.
Five Socs got out of the car, all wearing their madras shirts and khaki pants. My gut was telling me to make a run for it, but it was too late. Every path was blocked off , preventing me from escaping.
"Hey, Greaser. We're gonna do you a favor. We're gonna cut off all that long, greasy hair." one said, smiling at me in a way that made me feel sick to my stomach. All I did was stare at them with buldging wide eyes, beads of sweat pouring down my forehead and back. I couldn't think of anything to say. What're you supposed to say when you're about to get jumped?
"Need a haircut, Greaser?" the blonde Soc laughed, pulling out a long blade from his back pocket. My eyes widened in horror as I saw the shining glint of silver. "N-No." I stammered, mentally scolding myself for not seeing that coming. I then realized that I accidently backed up into a Soc behind me.
In a matter of seconds, they grabbed me and threw me to the ground very hard. The back of my head was aching and smarting from the aggressive impact. My arms and legs were pinned down against the ground as one of the Socs sat on my chest. I started thrashing and flailing in their grip but it was no use; they were stronger than me.
I was petrified by this point, so much so that I thought I could feel the ground shaking below me. The Soc on top of my chest punched me in the face a few times, excrutiating pain exploding after each blow. There was a strong smell of tobacco on his breath, and I wish I suffocated on it.
Then, the cold metal of the blade was held against my throat. He gently sliced the skin, causing beads of blood to slide down my neck. "How about we give you a haircut below the chin?" the Soc said.
I couldn't help it, I started screaming as loud as I could. I screamed for Darry, Soda, Bexley, or anybody. The Soc with the blade up against my throat got mad that I was doing that and stuffed a hankerchief in my mouth. I tried spitting it out but it was pushed back farther.
"You listen up, Grease." the Soc growled, "You best shut your trap, or we'll give those brothers and sister of yours a good working over." I stared back at him, now confused. How'd he know about my brothers and sister?
"Yeah, we know about them. Keep screaming, we'll go to your house and kill them all. With that sister of yours, heh, you won't like what we'll do with her. Then, we'll kill you." the Socs threatened, bringing the blade up to my cheek.
I felt my heart pounding against my rib cage, my head started to spin. I was scared to death. I don't know how they knew about my brothers and sister, but that threat alone petrified me.
I didn't want the Socs to kill them, and I didn't even want to think about what they were gonna do to Bexley if they got a hold of her. I tried screaming again but instantly stopped when I felt the blade touch my cheek, cutting it slowly. It stung like hell. I started to squirm, but froze when I felt something against my side.
"Did you really think we would forget what you did?" the blonde Soc said in my ear. All my blood seemed to leave my face because I knew exactly what he was talking about. Now, they were gonna take my blood for it.
"You better listen up, Grease. Cooperate with us, or your brothers and sister are next. You understand?" the Soc threatened.
All I did was nod, the tears pouring down my cheeks. The Socs got a sense of pleasure of my misery, making me feel sick. I squeezed my eyes shut and felt the blade cut my on my chest, arms, and legs. The blood soaked through my jacket and shirt.
They wanted to cause me as much pain as possible as they slowly cut me.
The other Socs, meanwhile, were beating me senseless. They were kicking me in the ribs and in my stomach, punching me in the face, and I thought I felt my nose crack. Each blow was so painful that my screams of agony were muffled by the hankerchief, and the escaped tears rolled down my cheeks. The blade was now crimson to the tip of it as it flashed under the sunlight.
The whole time I was wondering why no one had come? Could it be because I was too far away for anyone to hear? I wanted to scream, but that would only put my brothers and sister in danger. I didn't want them to die because of me.
My entire body was smarting, it hurt so bad that a single movement would hurt like hell. My head was spinning, the iron of blood in my mouth from the vicious blows. I silently prayed for the beating to end, I wanted them to leave me alone.
Everything was starting to fade, the edges of my vision starting to turn black. How was I still alive? At this point, I didn't want to be alive; my body was hurting too much. I was knocked out cold with a final kick to the head; it was welcoming.