Darry's POV
I went to sleep that night knowing that I finally had done it. I proved to myself that I was a bad guardian. I knew, just knew, that this was all my fault. If I hadn't hit Pony that one night... if, if, if. Maybe Johnny and Dally would be alive. If only I was not so strict! Goddamnit! I finally failed. Dally, Johnny, I murdered them. I murdered Dally more then that policeman who actually shot the bullet. I may as well have thrown Johnny into that fire. If I hadn't hit Pony, if only. I kept these tortured thoughts within myself until 3 in the morning, when, for an inexplicable reason, the phone rang. I hoped I didnt know why. But I did. It was a social worker, if I didn't know better I would have said it was the one I had spoken with earlier, but that piece of ignorance wouldn't keep himself awake for a filthy greaser like me...
"Who is it?!" I said louder then I should have. Luckily Pony and Soda sleep like logs, except for Pony's nightmares.
"Your brothers will be leaving tommorow at 9:00. The foster parents who said they needed more time said that they were actually ready now. They need to be ready by 9:00"
"What on earth?" My voice faded, and then was the first time that I realized that I needed to sleep before the next day. I was too tired to fight this man over the phone.
"You must have them ready, okay?"
"Yeah." I was exhausted. I hung up, not caring if the man had more to say. Then I slowly started to pack my brother's things, methodically, not wanting to wake them, I managed to finish all of the packing by 5:00. Then I passed out onto the bed.
I felt nothing. I was too drained. Yet I knew, in my head, that tomorrow would bring pain, guilt, and worse. I knew. After two hours of tiring sleep (If that is possible, which trust me it is) I would wake up with only 2 hours left with my family. How would I tell Two-Bit and Steve this? I refused to think about this as I fell asleep.
Soda's POV
I couldn't sleep. Of course. Darry was trying to be calm, but I knew he was hiding something. As Pony and I nervously chatted about things, we tried to desperately steer away from the topic of our imminent separation from Darry. Then Pony abruptly changed the subject.
"It is 4:00, Soda, good God we never stay up this late!"
"I stayed up this late every day you were in Windrixville." I shot back somewhat spitefully.
"Sorry."
"Shush! I think I hear Darry talking to someone."
mumble, mumble, mumble, Johnny. Dally dead, policeman, shot him! I immediately knew that it was himself that Darry was talking to. My word, this was already getting to him. Then the phone rang. Pony and I listened in rapt attention. The only thing Darry said in the conversation was stuff like "What the hell?" and the like. I got really worried. Then Darry came into our room. I told Pony quietly to pretend that he was asleep. We both lay there (I kept one eye open) as Darry packed all our things!
"Wait what the - muffle" said Pony as I shoved his mouth under the pillow so that he wouldn't have Darry hear him. Sometimes he really doesn't use his head.
Then Darry went back to his room. I could hear him talking completely incoherently until 5:30. Do people who talk to themselves even listen? Whatever. I think if you resort to talking to yourself, you should at least listen. Just me. I thought about this until Pony fell asleep at 5:45, and I followed suit at six, but set the alarm for 7:00 shortly before. I wanted to be awake by the time Darry was. That way I could maybe keep him from going any crazier than he already is. Oh geez, this is gonna be nuts.
I went to sleep that night knowing that I finally had done it. I proved to myself that I was a bad guardian. I knew, just knew, that this was all my fault. If I hadn't hit Pony that one night... if, if, if. Maybe Johnny and Dally would be alive. If only I was not so strict! Goddamnit! I finally failed. Dally, Johnny, I murdered them. I murdered Dally more then that policeman who actually shot the bullet. I may as well have thrown Johnny into that fire. If I hadn't hit Pony, if only. I kept these tortured thoughts within myself until 3 in the morning, when, for an inexplicable reason, the phone rang. I hoped I didnt know why. But I did. It was a social worker, if I didn't know better I would have said it was the one I had spoken with earlier, but that piece of ignorance wouldn't keep himself awake for a filthy greaser like me...
"Who is it?!" I said louder then I should have. Luckily Pony and Soda sleep like logs, except for Pony's nightmares.
"Your brothers will be leaving tommorow at 9:00. The foster parents who said they needed more time said that they were actually ready now. They need to be ready by 9:00"
"What on earth?" My voice faded, and then was the first time that I realized that I needed to sleep before the next day. I was too tired to fight this man over the phone.
"You must have them ready, okay?"
"Yeah." I was exhausted. I hung up, not caring if the man had more to say. Then I slowly started to pack my brother's things, methodically, not wanting to wake them, I managed to finish all of the packing by 5:00. Then I passed out onto the bed.
I felt nothing. I was too drained. Yet I knew, in my head, that tomorrow would bring pain, guilt, and worse. I knew. After two hours of tiring sleep (If that is possible, which trust me it is) I would wake up with only 2 hours left with my family. How would I tell Two-Bit and Steve this? I refused to think about this as I fell asleep.
Soda's POV
I couldn't sleep. Of course. Darry was trying to be calm, but I knew he was hiding something. As Pony and I nervously chatted about things, we tried to desperately steer away from the topic of our imminent separation from Darry. Then Pony abruptly changed the subject.
"It is 4:00, Soda, good God we never stay up this late!"
"I stayed up this late every day you were in Windrixville." I shot back somewhat spitefully.
"Sorry."
"Shush! I think I hear Darry talking to someone."
mumble, mumble, mumble, Johnny. Dally dead, policeman, shot him! I immediately knew that it was himself that Darry was talking to. My word, this was already getting to him. Then the phone rang. Pony and I listened in rapt attention. The only thing Darry said in the conversation was stuff like "What the hell?" and the like. I got really worried. Then Darry came into our room. I told Pony quietly to pretend that he was asleep. We both lay there (I kept one eye open) as Darry packed all our things!
"Wait what the - muffle" said Pony as I shoved his mouth under the pillow so that he wouldn't have Darry hear him. Sometimes he really doesn't use his head.
Then Darry went back to his room. I could hear him talking completely incoherently until 5:30. Do people who talk to themselves even listen? Whatever. I think if you resort to talking to yourself, you should at least listen. Just me. I thought about this until Pony fell asleep at 5:45, and I followed suit at six, but set the alarm for 7:00 shortly before. I wanted to be awake by the time Darry was. That way I could maybe keep him from going any crazier than he already is. Oh geez, this is gonna be nuts.