The three Curtis brothers sat at the table, plates of
homemade hamburgers and fries sitting in front of them. Ponyboy piled
his fries on top of each other, thinking to himself. It was almost
three years ago that Johnny Cade and Dally Winston died in that spiraling,
hellish week that seemed like an eternity ago.
"Do you guys ever think about them?" he asked suddenly. Soda and Darry looked at him questioningly. "About Johnny and Dally?" Ponyboy said. Both of his brothers' expressions changed drastically, and Soda sighed heavily. "Of course we do, Pony"—Darry put his burger down—"all the time." Soda nodded, "Why wouldn't we?"
A sharp pain went through Ponyboy's heart, and he lit himself a cigarette. He stared up at the bright stars from the lot, holding the football in his lap. Next to him sat two cheap-wood crosses bearing the names of the friends he lost. He took a drag and tried to blow a smoke ring.
Johnny, he thought, you were my best friend. I don't know what I'll do without you. And Dally loved you, like the family he never had. You were the only thing he loved, and he killed himself out of grief for you. "I don't understand why..." Ponyboy said to nothing in particular. "You should be alive now. It isn't fair. It isn't fair!" he yelled this last part, tears streaming down his face.
For a moment, Ponyboy's whole world crashed down on him. His mind said, over and over again, It isn't fair! It isn't fair! until he thought it would ring in his head all night. "I should've let you through the window first, Johnny..if you hadn't been in there that last second, you and Dally would still be alive, and we'd all be spared the pain.." he said, taking a drag on his weed. A fresh tear rolled down his cheek, and he stood up, putting the football down on the ground softly. The tear from his chin dropped onto the ground between the two memorial crosses.
When Ponyboy looked up at the sky for one last time, he saw a comet cross the sky, and knew that someday, no matter how far away, everything would be okay.
"Do you guys ever think about them?" he asked suddenly. Soda and Darry looked at him questioningly. "About Johnny and Dally?" Ponyboy said. Both of his brothers' expressions changed drastically, and Soda sighed heavily. "Of course we do, Pony"—Darry put his burger down—"all the time." Soda nodded, "Why wouldn't we?"
A sharp pain went through Ponyboy's heart, and he lit himself a cigarette. He stared up at the bright stars from the lot, holding the football in his lap. Next to him sat two cheap-wood crosses bearing the names of the friends he lost. He took a drag and tried to blow a smoke ring.
Johnny, he thought, you were my best friend. I don't know what I'll do without you. And Dally loved you, like the family he never had. You were the only thing he loved, and he killed himself out of grief for you. "I don't understand why..." Ponyboy said to nothing in particular. "You should be alive now. It isn't fair. It isn't fair!" he yelled this last part, tears streaming down his face.
For a moment, Ponyboy's whole world crashed down on him. His mind said, over and over again, It isn't fair! It isn't fair! until he thought it would ring in his head all night. "I should've let you through the window first, Johnny..if you hadn't been in there that last second, you and Dally would still be alive, and we'd all be spared the pain.." he said, taking a drag on his weed. A fresh tear rolled down his cheek, and he stood up, putting the football down on the ground softly. The tear from his chin dropped onto the ground between the two memorial crosses.
When Ponyboy looked up at the sky for one last time, he saw a comet cross the sky, and knew that someday, no matter how far away, everything would be okay.