Chapter six is now up, as you can tell. I only own Lexa and the pome, I'm very proud of that pome actually. If you take either of these thing I will hunt you down and force feed you live spiders. LOL! Thanx to everyone who reviewed my last 2 chapters ya'll rock! My goal is 50 reviews and it looks like i might get there! YAH! Ok here's the story, let me know what u think. After this chapter it's gonna get more interesting, a LOT more interesting...ooowww plot twists I love 'em! 0u+z....Daze
I walk the few wearily feet to the Curtis house, silently praying Dallas would come home safely tonight. I ran a hand through my blond hair, and stopped at the foot of the steps. It was going to be a long night, sitting up nursing Johnny's wounds and waiting for my cousin, and I was tempted to just leave. Just start running down the streets, to somewhere no one would find me, letting Soda take care of Johnny, and Dal worry about himself. But I couldn't do that, these guys were my family, and I didn't leave family.
I closed the door softly behind me, and look around at the boys in the living room. No one asked where Dallas had gone, they all know with one look at me. I closed my eyes remembering......
. When I was 12 and in 7th grade, I'd written an article for the school newspaper about the division of the social class at our school. It had been a really good article, everyone said so. But the newspaper had rejected it, used some socs survey on best lip-stick brand instead. I was upset, I'd felt like crying. But I hadn't and as i retold the story to Two-Bit when we'd been walking home, pretending I hadn't cared the least bit, he hadn't said anything. The next day a copy of my story had appeared not only in my school's paper, but the high school newspaper also. And at the very bottom of my article a line had been added, "This is for you Lexa, bout time we get something worth reading. Faithfully Yours, Two-Bit Mathews". He'd gotten expelled for three days for his "little stunt" as our teachers had called it. But nothing anyone had done for me had ever meant more then what he did that day. And when I tried to thank him, he'd kissed my forehead, told me he didn't like seeing me get hurt (a famous line with the gang....) and that he wasn't going to let them walk all over me and make me feel worthless. When I questioned him about how he known it had bothered me he'd grinned as he replied, "Lexa, you can't hide what you feel, your eyes always give you away. You have such pretty eyes, but your emotions play openly in them." I still had the copies of the newspaper, the one Two-Bit and I had 'autographed" and one copy I'd had laminated. Two-Bit had a copy of it up on his bedroom wall to this very day. Sort of a symbol of just how far we'd go for each other.
I'd found myself at the door to Johnny' room, unaware I had actually managed to walk back the hall while in my daydream. I opened the door, and found Soda gazing at the window from the chair I had been in. Johnny was laying so quietly on the bed I feared for a second he was dead, but looking closer at the slow rise an fall of his chest a feeling of great relief washed over me. I walked across the room, and touched Sodapop lightly on the shoulder, he jumped slightly. Upon seeing it was just me he grinned tiredly and lifted a clean shirt, and pair of blue jeans off his lap, offering them to me. "Help me get him changed." My voice was ragged, likely from the crying, and Soda nodded briefly. "Should we wake him?" Soda whispered in reply, standing slowly, and lifting the chair back into place. "Not if we can help it." I answered Figuring it would be better to let him sleep through the pain. Soda lifted Johnny's limp body slowly, holding him close to his chest. I'd never met a guy, especially in this neighborhood, who was more tender then Sodapop with any living thing. Trying not to wake Johnny, I lifted his shirt slowly over his head. It wasn't until I was about put Soda's old shirt on him that I actually looked at his chest. My breath caught in my throught, and tears blurred my vision. "Soda, lay him down for a second." I whispered, and Soda rested his body back on the bed. "Glory...." Soda, gasped seeing for the first time just how badly beaten Johnny was.
Reaching out my right hand, my figure tips ran softly over a deep purple bruise located on Johnny's rib cage. "Poor baby..." I whispered into the air, running my fingers over the bruised skin. There were ones exactly identical all over his bronze tinted skin, and I wish with all my heart and soul I could kiss them all away. Snapping back to my senses, "Come on Soda, let's get something on him." With Soda's help I managed to get Johnny into clean clothes without him waking up. We both sat there for a while, talking in hushed tones about how awful Johnny look, and how we wished we could help him.
After about five minutes Soda stood, yawning, ruffled my hair, and walked out of the room. 'He even walks cute.' I thought grinning slightly, watching his long slow stride. I reached into my purse, which was sitting next to me on the floor, and took out my diary. Turing to a clean page, I wrote in my dainty handwriting:
There must be a place,
Where no pain resides.
A fantasy place,
Where eyes do not cry.
A place where skin is not torn and bruised,
And children's weary minds are not abused.
Where boys are not forced to be the man
There fathers weren't.
And the worth of a girl is not found merely beneath her skirt.
A place where child can laugh and play,
Instead of watching their lives thrown away.
A place where the rich and the poor are as one,
And young men are not broken on the expense of drunk fun.
My eyes are wide open searching for this place,
Driven by the look of defeat on your face.
For I may stumble on me way,
But this place WILL be our reality some day.
I closed the red notebook, and looked down at Johnny. On impulse I lifted his shirt, exposing the battered skin. I traced over each bruise, as if trying to feel his pain, until a soft voice broke my thought. "I'm gonna be alright, Munchkin. Don't worry." I looked up at Johnny's swollen face, then lightly placed my lips on his bruised ribs, kissing his warm skin delicately. His hand found it's way onto the back of my head, and gently stroked my hair, until I rose up and smiled at him. "No one should ever have to go through what you've gone through in your life, Johnny Cade. Especially not you." I leaned close to his ear as I said this, and I could feel his breath on my face. I kissed his cheek softly, "Sleep, sweetheart. It'll all be better in the morning." I said as I stood to leave, but he grabbed my small hand in his shaking one. "Lex, do me a favor?" He asked meekly, and I nodded. "Don't let Dal do anything stupid." I shook my head slightly, tossing my hair from side to side, "He already has." I closed the door softly behind me as I left the room.
I walk the few wearily feet to the Curtis house, silently praying Dallas would come home safely tonight. I ran a hand through my blond hair, and stopped at the foot of the steps. It was going to be a long night, sitting up nursing Johnny's wounds and waiting for my cousin, and I was tempted to just leave. Just start running down the streets, to somewhere no one would find me, letting Soda take care of Johnny, and Dal worry about himself. But I couldn't do that, these guys were my family, and I didn't leave family.
I closed the door softly behind me, and look around at the boys in the living room. No one asked where Dallas had gone, they all know with one look at me. I closed my eyes remembering......
. When I was 12 and in 7th grade, I'd written an article for the school newspaper about the division of the social class at our school. It had been a really good article, everyone said so. But the newspaper had rejected it, used some socs survey on best lip-stick brand instead. I was upset, I'd felt like crying. But I hadn't and as i retold the story to Two-Bit when we'd been walking home, pretending I hadn't cared the least bit, he hadn't said anything. The next day a copy of my story had appeared not only in my school's paper, but the high school newspaper also. And at the very bottom of my article a line had been added, "This is for you Lexa, bout time we get something worth reading. Faithfully Yours, Two-Bit Mathews". He'd gotten expelled for three days for his "little stunt" as our teachers had called it. But nothing anyone had done for me had ever meant more then what he did that day. And when I tried to thank him, he'd kissed my forehead, told me he didn't like seeing me get hurt (a famous line with the gang....) and that he wasn't going to let them walk all over me and make me feel worthless. When I questioned him about how he known it had bothered me he'd grinned as he replied, "Lexa, you can't hide what you feel, your eyes always give you away. You have such pretty eyes, but your emotions play openly in them." I still had the copies of the newspaper, the one Two-Bit and I had 'autographed" and one copy I'd had laminated. Two-Bit had a copy of it up on his bedroom wall to this very day. Sort of a symbol of just how far we'd go for each other.
I'd found myself at the door to Johnny' room, unaware I had actually managed to walk back the hall while in my daydream. I opened the door, and found Soda gazing at the window from the chair I had been in. Johnny was laying so quietly on the bed I feared for a second he was dead, but looking closer at the slow rise an fall of his chest a feeling of great relief washed over me. I walked across the room, and touched Sodapop lightly on the shoulder, he jumped slightly. Upon seeing it was just me he grinned tiredly and lifted a clean shirt, and pair of blue jeans off his lap, offering them to me. "Help me get him changed." My voice was ragged, likely from the crying, and Soda nodded briefly. "Should we wake him?" Soda whispered in reply, standing slowly, and lifting the chair back into place. "Not if we can help it." I answered Figuring it would be better to let him sleep through the pain. Soda lifted Johnny's limp body slowly, holding him close to his chest. I'd never met a guy, especially in this neighborhood, who was more tender then Sodapop with any living thing. Trying not to wake Johnny, I lifted his shirt slowly over his head. It wasn't until I was about put Soda's old shirt on him that I actually looked at his chest. My breath caught in my throught, and tears blurred my vision. "Soda, lay him down for a second." I whispered, and Soda rested his body back on the bed. "Glory...." Soda, gasped seeing for the first time just how badly beaten Johnny was.
Reaching out my right hand, my figure tips ran softly over a deep purple bruise located on Johnny's rib cage. "Poor baby..." I whispered into the air, running my fingers over the bruised skin. There were ones exactly identical all over his bronze tinted skin, and I wish with all my heart and soul I could kiss them all away. Snapping back to my senses, "Come on Soda, let's get something on him." With Soda's help I managed to get Johnny into clean clothes without him waking up. We both sat there for a while, talking in hushed tones about how awful Johnny look, and how we wished we could help him.
After about five minutes Soda stood, yawning, ruffled my hair, and walked out of the room. 'He even walks cute.' I thought grinning slightly, watching his long slow stride. I reached into my purse, which was sitting next to me on the floor, and took out my diary. Turing to a clean page, I wrote in my dainty handwriting:
There must be a place,
Where no pain resides.
A fantasy place,
Where eyes do not cry.
A place where skin is not torn and bruised,
And children's weary minds are not abused.
Where boys are not forced to be the man
There fathers weren't.
And the worth of a girl is not found merely beneath her skirt.
A place where child can laugh and play,
Instead of watching their lives thrown away.
A place where the rich and the poor are as one,
And young men are not broken on the expense of drunk fun.
My eyes are wide open searching for this place,
Driven by the look of defeat on your face.
For I may stumble on me way,
But this place WILL be our reality some day.
I closed the red notebook, and looked down at Johnny. On impulse I lifted his shirt, exposing the battered skin. I traced over each bruise, as if trying to feel his pain, until a soft voice broke my thought. "I'm gonna be alright, Munchkin. Don't worry." I looked up at Johnny's swollen face, then lightly placed my lips on his bruised ribs, kissing his warm skin delicately. His hand found it's way onto the back of my head, and gently stroked my hair, until I rose up and smiled at him. "No one should ever have to go through what you've gone through in your life, Johnny Cade. Especially not you." I leaned close to his ear as I said this, and I could feel his breath on my face. I kissed his cheek softly, "Sleep, sweetheart. It'll all be better in the morning." I said as I stood to leave, but he grabbed my small hand in his shaking one. "Lex, do me a favor?" He asked meekly, and I nodded. "Don't let Dal do anything stupid." I shook my head slightly, tossing my hair from side to side, "He already has." I closed the door softly behind me as I left the room.