Disclaimer: I don't own the outsiders! Everyone else tho!
I slowly walk to the bathroom, scissors in hand. I close the door, that successfully drowned the yells of my parents downstairs.
I stood in front of the mirror. I dropped the scissors into the sink to roll my sleeves up, pure white, disguised as innocence. Disguised along with this plaid skirt and pink cardigan.
Tense, but finally, I had managed to cut a few on my left arm. Five on the surface, but 4 deep enough to bleed.
Harsh sounding, but not really. The ones from my parents hurt more than ever. Resulting in only black and blue, it hurts when it shows the sign of regret for having you. Disappearing from the surface, yeah. But its still, deep down below the skin, it has left its mark.
Suppressed by all my childish fears, I gave up and ran. Dropping the scissors to make noise along with the yells and the 5:00 chime of the kitchen clock. 'they regret having me so they wont have me anymore,' I thought as I ran down the stairs.
I had been in my room since they had began fighting today, which was ever since I came home from school, 3 o'clock. I got out and slammed the door. I hoped they stopped.
'suppose they did stop and saw me run away. Would they come after me?' I thought as I ran onto the wet street,' NO! they would rejoice for their 'prayers' were answered.'
My sleeve had rolled down as I ran. 1,2,3,4, blocks went by, as fast as the rain falling.
I finally got tired and stopped in the middle of the street, half hoping a car would come and do something. It did.
I found myself. Standing inches away from the bumper, though I wasn't cowering in fear. I was just standing there, searching for the driver's face through the water splashed windshield.
"am I dead yet?" I wondered out loud.
"if ya are, its not from me. Its from that nasty lookin' arm of yours," the man said, coming out of the truck.
My left arm, cardigan and all, was covered in blood. "here, lets take ya over to my place and see if we can do somethin' 'bout that nasty arm," he said," and ya gotta dry off or you'll catch a cold." He took his own jacket off his own back and put it on my shoulders.
'nice man,' I thought to myself,' hope he'll kidnap me and kill me.'
Then I noticed that he was way too nice when he helped me into the truck that he wouldn't kill me.
We were driving 'home' in awkward silence. He broke the silence," I'm sorry I didn't introduce myself. I'm Darry Curtis," he said, thrusting his huge hand at me.
"rose. Rose o'connor," I said softly, hastily taking his hand and putting it back.
"how old are ya? You look about my brother's age." He said.
"I'm turning 14 next week," I whispered.
"Ponyboy is 14! Boy, I though so!" he said.
'Ponyboy,' I thought,' what a name.'
"yeah, Ponyboy is a weird name. But my dad, he was an original name. Named my brothers weird but not me! No siree, I'm the junior. Darrel Curtis Jr." he said.
"that isn't half bad," I said, finally warming up to the guy.
"not as bad as Sodapop," he said, giving a warm chuckle.
'Sodapop,' I thought,' sounds familiar.'
"isn't he the one that works at DX?" I asked.
"yeah, the boy EVERY girl wants," he said, pulling up to a small driveway and helped me out," sorry I didn't have an umbrella." He said as we went up the porch steps.
I slowly walk to the bathroom, scissors in hand. I close the door, that successfully drowned the yells of my parents downstairs.
I stood in front of the mirror. I dropped the scissors into the sink to roll my sleeves up, pure white, disguised as innocence. Disguised along with this plaid skirt and pink cardigan.
Tense, but finally, I had managed to cut a few on my left arm. Five on the surface, but 4 deep enough to bleed.
Harsh sounding, but not really. The ones from my parents hurt more than ever. Resulting in only black and blue, it hurts when it shows the sign of regret for having you. Disappearing from the surface, yeah. But its still, deep down below the skin, it has left its mark.
Suppressed by all my childish fears, I gave up and ran. Dropping the scissors to make noise along with the yells and the 5:00 chime of the kitchen clock. 'they regret having me so they wont have me anymore,' I thought as I ran down the stairs.
I had been in my room since they had began fighting today, which was ever since I came home from school, 3 o'clock. I got out and slammed the door. I hoped they stopped.
'suppose they did stop and saw me run away. Would they come after me?' I thought as I ran onto the wet street,' NO! they would rejoice for their 'prayers' were answered.'
My sleeve had rolled down as I ran. 1,2,3,4, blocks went by, as fast as the rain falling.
I finally got tired and stopped in the middle of the street, half hoping a car would come and do something. It did.
I found myself. Standing inches away from the bumper, though I wasn't cowering in fear. I was just standing there, searching for the driver's face through the water splashed windshield.
"am I dead yet?" I wondered out loud.
"if ya are, its not from me. Its from that nasty lookin' arm of yours," the man said, coming out of the truck.
My left arm, cardigan and all, was covered in blood. "here, lets take ya over to my place and see if we can do somethin' 'bout that nasty arm," he said," and ya gotta dry off or you'll catch a cold." He took his own jacket off his own back and put it on my shoulders.
'nice man,' I thought to myself,' hope he'll kidnap me and kill me.'
Then I noticed that he was way too nice when he helped me into the truck that he wouldn't kill me.
We were driving 'home' in awkward silence. He broke the silence," I'm sorry I didn't introduce myself. I'm Darry Curtis," he said, thrusting his huge hand at me.
"rose. Rose o'connor," I said softly, hastily taking his hand and putting it back.
"how old are ya? You look about my brother's age." He said.
"I'm turning 14 next week," I whispered.
"Ponyboy is 14! Boy, I though so!" he said.
'Ponyboy,' I thought,' what a name.'
"yeah, Ponyboy is a weird name. But my dad, he was an original name. Named my brothers weird but not me! No siree, I'm the junior. Darrel Curtis Jr." he said.
"that isn't half bad," I said, finally warming up to the guy.
"not as bad as Sodapop," he said, giving a warm chuckle.
'Sodapop,' I thought,' sounds familiar.'
"isn't he the one that works at DX?" I asked.
"yeah, the boy EVERY girl wants," he said, pulling up to a small driveway and helped me out," sorry I didn't have an umbrella." He said as we went up the porch steps.