Ya'll this is my first Outsiders fic, so PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE be nice! If you read the story and like it let me know by reviewing. If you read it and hate the story let me know, by reviewing! You can even review if you don't read the story...hehe. I think you know what I'm trying to get at. The song belongs to Creed, the characters belong to S.E Hinton, in a way I guess even the plot of this story belongs to S.E. Hinton. So really all I own in the guy who's working at the store. So if you steal him, I'll have to hurt you...lol. Anyways hope you like the story, and REVIEW!
One Last Breath
Please come now I think I'm falling
I'm holding to all I think is safe
It seems I found the road to nowhere
And I'm trying to escape
I yelled back when I heard thunder
But I'm down to one last breath
And with it let me say
Let me say
His hand was throbbing as he walked into the stunning cold night. Hitting the wall had probably not been the best idea, but none of that mattered now. Johnny was gone, dead at 16. Everything that he'd even remotely cared about had died with Johnny, leaving Dallas Winston colder, hollow, and ready to explode. Like the barrel of a gun getting ready to fire on the slightest hint of command. Dally slouched as he made long strides to Buck's old T-Bird, letting the tears leave cold streaks down his dirty cheeks. A roar of thunder sounded over head and uncharacteristically he let out a slight yelp, then suddenly changed direction, running out of the hospital parking lot, trying to escape the pain.
Hold me now
I'm six feet from the edge and I'm thinking
That maybe six feet
Ain't so far down
The plan was clear inside his head, each move plotted with an exact purpose, and a determined out come. Dallas enter the store. His hands shaking slightly, as he reached causally into his pocket and walked over to the cashier. A man in his late forties, looked up at him from the top of a news paper, then smiled a friendly grin and stood up. "May I help you." The man's voice was warm, and for a second Dally wavered on the idea of going through with the next step. Johnny's dead. The thought crossed his cluttered mind and all his doubts, along with all his sense left as he slowly pulled the gun out of his pocket. The memories flooded back as he shoved the cold end under he man's eye, pointing it with a shaking unstable hand. ~ 'I've started carryin a heater'......'Dally you kill people with heaters'.....'Ya kill 'em with switch blades too, huh kid. Don't worry it ain't loaded I ain't aiming to be picked up for murder......'~ So many things could change in the matter of a few days....hours even. " Give me," his voice was unsure and he gruffened it before he continued "Give me all the money in the register. All of it!" He watched as the man shakingly handed over the money. "Alright pal, hold on. Clam down, here you go." The man said trying to keep his voice steady. Dallas shoved the gun into the mans cheek bone with exaggerated force and barked bitterly, "I ain't your pal." He took off out the door, running as fast as his tired legs could manage.
I'm looking down now that it's over
Reflecting on all of my mistakes
I thought I found the road to somewhere
Somewhere in His grace
I cried out heaven save me
But I'm down to one last breath
And with it let me say
Let me say
His legs gave out as he collapsed next the pay phone. Shoving his hands into his pockets he inserted 45 cents, and dialed the familiar number. It rang twice before someone finally picked up. "Hello?" Darry Curtis' voice was quick and on the point of breaking and Dallas realized Pony must have told them by now. "Darry, it's Dallas. I robbed a store the fuzz are after me, I need you to met me at the lot." Dallas spat hurriedly, and he pressed his body as close to the wall as he could, watching the red and blue lights streak by. "Alright we'll be there." The phone clicked and Dallas almost laughed at the tone in Darry's voice. He'd screwed up this time. Armed robbery, this was gonna get him serious time in the pen. Another mistake to add to the list. But that's what his whole life had been, mistakes. Maybe it was being in the wrong place at the wrong time, or maybe it was being to reckless. But none of that mattered now. It was only a matter of time. "Over here Frank, I think I see something." Dallas shoved himself off the wall, and ran on a mad sprint towards the abounded lot next toethe Curtis' house.
Hold me now
I'm six feet from the edge and I'm thinking
That maybe six feet
Ain't so far down
He could see the grass of the lot, and for a second he thought he'd make it. He started to sprint, and turned the corner just in time to see his friends running towards him on a dead sprint. But there were only five of them, one was missing. Johnny.Dead.....Dallas commanded his legs to stop. He could have made it away before the officers had caught up to him. But he hadn't wanted to, his plan was falling perfectly into place. He turned and watched as the offers ran towards him, the reached back inside his leather jacket. He moved his hand around in the pocket until he felt the cold metal of the heater against his palm. He clasped his fingers tightly around it, and in one jerky motion he pulled it out. He could see the shocked faces of his friends, and the sad hard starting of there eyes tore at his heart. But it was to late, he raised the gun above his head, as if showing off a trophy. All he could think of was Johnny's sad scared face, laying dead on the hospital pillow. And Dallas almost smiled as he watched, as if in an almost slow motion cinematic way as the fuzz's fingers pulled the triggers on their guns. Ponyboy Curtis gasped and starred forward, but it was to late. The gun fire priced the peaceful silence of the night, and in a blurred reality Dallas' friends watched as he jerked violently form side to side. The force of the bullets tearing through his skin, sending his sprawling onto the ground.
Sad eyes follow me
But I still believe there's something left for me
So please come stay with me
'Cause I still believe there's something left for you and me
For you and me
For you and me
Dallas Winston didn't die gallant, he died young and violent on the cold night streets. Some may have called it a tragedy, saying Dallas didn't know the consequences of his actions. But he had, he'd known exactly what he was doing. And as they carried his bloody corpse out of the lighten lot, where he'd spend his last breathing moments, they noticed a cold smirk playing lightly on his pale gray lips. Contrary to popular belief Dallas hadn't been murdered, he'd 'taken his own life.' Just in his own way. He'd known what he'd wanted and 17 year old Dally always got what he wanted.
Hold me now
I'm six feet from the edge and I'm thinking......
One Last Breath
Please come now I think I'm falling
I'm holding to all I think is safe
It seems I found the road to nowhere
And I'm trying to escape
I yelled back when I heard thunder
But I'm down to one last breath
And with it let me say
Let me say
His hand was throbbing as he walked into the stunning cold night. Hitting the wall had probably not been the best idea, but none of that mattered now. Johnny was gone, dead at 16. Everything that he'd even remotely cared about had died with Johnny, leaving Dallas Winston colder, hollow, and ready to explode. Like the barrel of a gun getting ready to fire on the slightest hint of command. Dally slouched as he made long strides to Buck's old T-Bird, letting the tears leave cold streaks down his dirty cheeks. A roar of thunder sounded over head and uncharacteristically he let out a slight yelp, then suddenly changed direction, running out of the hospital parking lot, trying to escape the pain.
Hold me now
I'm six feet from the edge and I'm thinking
That maybe six feet
Ain't so far down
The plan was clear inside his head, each move plotted with an exact purpose, and a determined out come. Dallas enter the store. His hands shaking slightly, as he reached causally into his pocket and walked over to the cashier. A man in his late forties, looked up at him from the top of a news paper, then smiled a friendly grin and stood up. "May I help you." The man's voice was warm, and for a second Dally wavered on the idea of going through with the next step. Johnny's dead. The thought crossed his cluttered mind and all his doubts, along with all his sense left as he slowly pulled the gun out of his pocket. The memories flooded back as he shoved the cold end under he man's eye, pointing it with a shaking unstable hand. ~ 'I've started carryin a heater'......'Dally you kill people with heaters'.....'Ya kill 'em with switch blades too, huh kid. Don't worry it ain't loaded I ain't aiming to be picked up for murder......'~ So many things could change in the matter of a few days....hours even. " Give me," his voice was unsure and he gruffened it before he continued "Give me all the money in the register. All of it!" He watched as the man shakingly handed over the money. "Alright pal, hold on. Clam down, here you go." The man said trying to keep his voice steady. Dallas shoved the gun into the mans cheek bone with exaggerated force and barked bitterly, "I ain't your pal." He took off out the door, running as fast as his tired legs could manage.
I'm looking down now that it's over
Reflecting on all of my mistakes
I thought I found the road to somewhere
Somewhere in His grace
I cried out heaven save me
But I'm down to one last breath
And with it let me say
Let me say
His legs gave out as he collapsed next the pay phone. Shoving his hands into his pockets he inserted 45 cents, and dialed the familiar number. It rang twice before someone finally picked up. "Hello?" Darry Curtis' voice was quick and on the point of breaking and Dallas realized Pony must have told them by now. "Darry, it's Dallas. I robbed a store the fuzz are after me, I need you to met me at the lot." Dallas spat hurriedly, and he pressed his body as close to the wall as he could, watching the red and blue lights streak by. "Alright we'll be there." The phone clicked and Dallas almost laughed at the tone in Darry's voice. He'd screwed up this time. Armed robbery, this was gonna get him serious time in the pen. Another mistake to add to the list. But that's what his whole life had been, mistakes. Maybe it was being in the wrong place at the wrong time, or maybe it was being to reckless. But none of that mattered now. It was only a matter of time. "Over here Frank, I think I see something." Dallas shoved himself off the wall, and ran on a mad sprint towards the abounded lot next toethe Curtis' house.
Hold me now
I'm six feet from the edge and I'm thinking
That maybe six feet
Ain't so far down
He could see the grass of the lot, and for a second he thought he'd make it. He started to sprint, and turned the corner just in time to see his friends running towards him on a dead sprint. But there were only five of them, one was missing. Johnny.Dead.....Dallas commanded his legs to stop. He could have made it away before the officers had caught up to him. But he hadn't wanted to, his plan was falling perfectly into place. He turned and watched as the offers ran towards him, the reached back inside his leather jacket. He moved his hand around in the pocket until he felt the cold metal of the heater against his palm. He clasped his fingers tightly around it, and in one jerky motion he pulled it out. He could see the shocked faces of his friends, and the sad hard starting of there eyes tore at his heart. But it was to late, he raised the gun above his head, as if showing off a trophy. All he could think of was Johnny's sad scared face, laying dead on the hospital pillow. And Dallas almost smiled as he watched, as if in an almost slow motion cinematic way as the fuzz's fingers pulled the triggers on their guns. Ponyboy Curtis gasped and starred forward, but it was to late. The gun fire priced the peaceful silence of the night, and in a blurred reality Dallas' friends watched as he jerked violently form side to side. The force of the bullets tearing through his skin, sending his sprawling onto the ground.
Sad eyes follow me
But I still believe there's something left for me
So please come stay with me
'Cause I still believe there's something left for you and me
For you and me
For you and me
Dallas Winston didn't die gallant, he died young and violent on the cold night streets. Some may have called it a tragedy, saying Dallas didn't know the consequences of his actions. But he had, he'd known exactly what he was doing. And as they carried his bloody corpse out of the lighten lot, where he'd spend his last breathing moments, they noticed a cold smirk playing lightly on his pale gray lips. Contrary to popular belief Dallas hadn't been murdered, he'd 'taken his own life.' Just in his own way. He'd known what he'd wanted and 17 year old Dally always got what he wanted.
Hold me now
I'm six feet from the edge and I'm thinking......