A/N - This is from Ponyboy's Point of View, I wasn't going to continue this
but I got bored so here it is. For some reason a lot of people have e-
mailed me asking how old I am, well since those people seem to care so much
I'm 14. My birthday was Feb. 27th, 1989. OK, on with the story.
I thought you were great. Or at least in the beginning. Now that I'm looking out the window of Darry's old beat up truck, I feel that you were the worst thing that ever happened to me. That day in school when you first came was amazing. You and your curly red hair and pretty green eyes. Gosh, I thought you walked down from heaven; you were so pretty. I was surprised when you sat next to me in class. We started talking and you and me had a lot of things in common. Then I asked you to the movies and you actually said yes.
I guess I should have noticed that you started acting weird about a week or so after we met. I noticed you had gotten paler. You got clingy and wouldn't let me walk away from you. When I told you I wanted to break-up with you, you completely freaked and started crying. I didn't mean to hurt you; I just wanted to be free of you.
Then you showed me the horrible lines that ran up and down your arms, my name engraved in your legs, the cuts fresh and slightly puffy. I asked why you did it, and you said in such a scary way that you did them for me. I wanted to slap you, slap some sense into you, but I knew I couldn't so I just turned and ran. You scared me, you really did. The next day you showed me your hands, the words 'I Love You' were burned into your skin with matches. What the hell is wrong with you? How can you do this to yourself?
The hardest thing about our whole 'relationship' was when you told me you loved me. I couldn't believe it, I asked if it was true, and you simply said "Yes" and looked at me as if expecting me to grab you into my arms and tell you that I loved you, but I don't. You're a lunatic! That's exactly what you are! And then you crossed the line by giving me that bottle. You walked right into my living room, while my brothers were sitting right there on the floor and gave me a little bottle filled to the top with your own blood. Darry got up and screamed at you to get out and I'm glad he did or I would have slapped you right then and there. I was afraid for you.
I remember I slapped you one day. I slapped you so hard. I knew I had to do something so horrible it would make you forget about me. But all you did was spit blood into my face, smiling as if it were a present. Maybe it is in your odd mind, but to me it was just nasty. I let you go and you walked away humming. I knew that there had to be something that I could do to make you hate me.
I can't believe what I did.
I took you into the woods for a walk. You just grabbed onto my arm and laid your head on my shoulder. At first I didn't think I could go through with my plan. But I knew I had to, I had to make you hate me. I grabbed you and pushed you down into the dirt. I did everything horrible that I could possibly imagine to you, I even got up and spit at you, walked away and pretended that I didn't care. You smiled at me the whole time. I ran home and threw up so much I thought I was going to puke up my insides. I cried and Soda came in to our room. He didn't ask me what was wrong; he just gave me water and told me it would be all right.
Now we are moving. I know I must have hurt you. I didn't come and say goodbye the day that we left. I don't know what your doing now, but you've probably forgotten about me. It's all right. I'll never see you again, so this is goodbye Sara. Hopefully we'll never meet again.
I thought you were great. Or at least in the beginning. Now that I'm looking out the window of Darry's old beat up truck, I feel that you were the worst thing that ever happened to me. That day in school when you first came was amazing. You and your curly red hair and pretty green eyes. Gosh, I thought you walked down from heaven; you were so pretty. I was surprised when you sat next to me in class. We started talking and you and me had a lot of things in common. Then I asked you to the movies and you actually said yes.
I guess I should have noticed that you started acting weird about a week or so after we met. I noticed you had gotten paler. You got clingy and wouldn't let me walk away from you. When I told you I wanted to break-up with you, you completely freaked and started crying. I didn't mean to hurt you; I just wanted to be free of you.
Then you showed me the horrible lines that ran up and down your arms, my name engraved in your legs, the cuts fresh and slightly puffy. I asked why you did it, and you said in such a scary way that you did them for me. I wanted to slap you, slap some sense into you, but I knew I couldn't so I just turned and ran. You scared me, you really did. The next day you showed me your hands, the words 'I Love You' were burned into your skin with matches. What the hell is wrong with you? How can you do this to yourself?
The hardest thing about our whole 'relationship' was when you told me you loved me. I couldn't believe it, I asked if it was true, and you simply said "Yes" and looked at me as if expecting me to grab you into my arms and tell you that I loved you, but I don't. You're a lunatic! That's exactly what you are! And then you crossed the line by giving me that bottle. You walked right into my living room, while my brothers were sitting right there on the floor and gave me a little bottle filled to the top with your own blood. Darry got up and screamed at you to get out and I'm glad he did or I would have slapped you right then and there. I was afraid for you.
I remember I slapped you one day. I slapped you so hard. I knew I had to do something so horrible it would make you forget about me. But all you did was spit blood into my face, smiling as if it were a present. Maybe it is in your odd mind, but to me it was just nasty. I let you go and you walked away humming. I knew that there had to be something that I could do to make you hate me.
I can't believe what I did.
I took you into the woods for a walk. You just grabbed onto my arm and laid your head on my shoulder. At first I didn't think I could go through with my plan. But I knew I had to, I had to make you hate me. I grabbed you and pushed you down into the dirt. I did everything horrible that I could possibly imagine to you, I even got up and spit at you, walked away and pretended that I didn't care. You smiled at me the whole time. I ran home and threw up so much I thought I was going to puke up my insides. I cried and Soda came in to our room. He didn't ask me what was wrong; he just gave me water and told me it would be all right.
Now we are moving. I know I must have hurt you. I didn't come and say goodbye the day that we left. I don't know what your doing now, but you've probably forgotten about me. It's all right. I'll never see you again, so this is goodbye Sara. Hopefully we'll never meet again.
