OK everyone. I am definitely a romance fanatic, so expect no less than
just that. I couldn't stand seeing Dally die when Cherry Valance could
have loved him. Of course, we never know if that is true or not, so I
suppose we'll find out.
A little about myself:
I have never written a fanfic on anything other than the book, play, and several-times movie 'The Phantom of the Opera'. Being the most romantic, classic, and creepy book I've ever read with the most captivating and strange character (our lead male, the Phantom himself), I was already infatuated upon first hearing the very song with the title 'Phantom of the Opera' from Andrew Lloyd Webber's musical. A couple or so years after this, I read 'the Outsiders' and was utterly obsessed with this book. Unfortunately, unlike with the Phantom of the Opera story, there were absolutely no outlets for me to express my devotion to such a beautiful but heart wrenching story. The controversial emotions displayed by all the characters are extremely brilliant, and I commend the gifted author S. E. Hinton. After reading this book, I fell in love with all the characters, even Cherry, the Soc. Even her book 'Tex' did not impress me as much. Dally, as is probably the case for many fans reading this right now, mostly caught my attention. He's the tough, distant man all girls dream of getting through to. Not that I would change him, but if I had the chance I would try to tug at his heart strings, because we all know that he indeed had a heart after his display of rage at Johnny's death. And as the main character, Ponyboy, pointed out, Johnny was the only thing Dally ever loved.
But...
What if there were someone who only loved one thing too? What if that person was Cherry Valance who would soon confirm that the possibilities of love for him are strong? What if the only thing she loved was him? And... What if he were subject to circumstances that would prevent him from being shot by the fuzz and engage him in wild and tumultuous feelings for someone that he utterly loathed?
Indeed, what if...
Well, as I hinted toward earlier this is my first attempt at writing fanfic for anything outside of the 'Phantom' realm.
But as I begin brainstorming for this story and start to fill this computer page with typed words and letters and imaginative ideas in sentence form, please take this advise:
Read the book 'Phantom of the Opera' by Gaston Leroux. He is the author of the very first book. It was his original idea based on some truth that he stretched into being the fantastic story of the infamous Opera Ghost. The reason why I say this is simply because I know I have fallen in love with the mysterious and alluring Ghost and I know that some of you out there will too. Also, go listen to the original Andrew Lloyd Webber cast for the Phantom of the Opera musical. That is with Sarah Brightman, Steve Bartan, and Michael Crawford (Monsieur le Fantome).
Please, I entreat you to get yourself interested in this story. You may find that it is exactly the opposite of what you may expect, and that will either end with good or bad results. Please, for my sake!! ;-D
And on to the fanfic in the making!!
By the way... I own none of these characters!! :-)
-Min Dear
Prologue: A Different Ending
'Dally raised the gun, and I thought: You blasted fool. They don't know you're only bluffing. And even as the policemen's guns spit fire into the night I knew that was what Dally wanted.'
S. E. Hinton, Chapter 10, Page 154, Second Paragraph, First and Second sentence...
The boys behind me were absolutely silent, and it was no surprise why. Dally was being murdered right before our eyes. Wasn't there a law against that? Killing anyone who held a gun up to the police, even if they're bluffing? It wouldn't make sense if there was. How would the fuzz know if someone was bluffing or not? I could imagine what it must be like to have that job. To have to search around town literally looking for trouble so you can get yourself involved and then somehow try to stop it. But then, Dally wasn't trouble... He was the other way around. Dally was trouble-d-. And that was why everywhere he went there was a mess behind him. He didn't know how to love, didn't know how to care, didn't know any other words than the three he lived by: loyalty, freewill, and revenge. And now, Dally was living by the consequences of these three rules. With each word came another with a contrary meaning: loyalty to betrayal, freewill to confinement, revenge to death. Which one was he suffering from now? All three? Just one? Two maybe?
But it didn't matter anyway. All this thinking until my head hurt wouldn't help anything. The scene around me seemed to be in slow motion. Even my own breathing, my heartbeat. Watching Dally go down wasn't easy, and neither was seeing the tears in Sodapop's eyes, or Darry's face contorted into a look of pure confusion and disbelief. At least he felt some sort of emotion. At least he could show that he cared for someone. Maybe Dally's death was all for the good...
I nearly smacked myself at that thought, but deep inside I still knew it was probably true. Dally hadn't really effected us before, hadn't meant a lot to us, even if we meant something to him. We always overlooked the things he did for us. Almost in retort to the crazy things he did, and for the constant bitter look in his eyes, even when we were around. I remembered in that moment what he'd done for me and Johnny while I saw Dally fall to the ground in a lifeless heap of blood, made into human Swiss cheese. He'd saved Johnny's life at the Church when it burned down, and he'd tried to save our behinds when we killed that Soc and gave us his gun, too. He did lots of things that would be in our memory's now that he was gone. But before, we hardly acknowledged that he even was human.
It didn't mean we hadn't cared for him at all. It just meant that we respected him more than felt for him. It's crazy how things can get so jumbled up and confusing when you're in a gang. When you're a greaser in general.
The cops didn't seem to wanna move, but that didn't make any difference. We didn't care if they were there or not. We weren't going to leave him there for road kill, or for them to deal with. Darry hustled over to put him over his shoulder, and Sodapop picked up Dally's gun that had fallen out of his hand while giving the cops a malicious look of pure hatred. I could tell that he was thinking, 'What good are the police when they don't even fight fair?' I could tell that we all shared the same opinion of them. Each of us had known before that the fuzz would never count us as citizens that needed protection too. We'd always be the ones they were protecting the citizens from, and they sure didn't do anything to change our minds that night.
After we took a few steps on down the road, we heard the cops reload themselves into their cars and move on in the opposite direction. Steve, through his massive tears, cursed them in every way possible until our ears were full to the brim of profanities. But we couldn't care less. This was life, this was normal for us. What else could we expect?
Just when the silence was almost too much to bear, we heard a young woman's voice behind us. I was the only one who turned to see who it was, and the first one to stop in his tracks.
"Hey, boys! Greasers!"
That word coming out of her own mouth stung like alcohol in an opened wound, but I quickly ignored the dangerous thoughts in my mind of the Soc's. Cherry wasn't like any other Soc. She was just human.
After Darry noticed that I'd stopped, he also halted and turned around to see who was calling us. I almost got sick seeing Dally's blood dispersed through Darry's clean, white shirt under his black leather coat. But what disgusted me most was the look on Dally's face, his eyes closed, mouth half open, drooling down the back of Darry's jacket. I had to look away before I puked all over the road in front of everybody.
Cherry was panting, obviously having run for a long time to get to us. How did she know we were here? The expression over her pretty face after she read my thoughts gave me the idea that it was unimportant.
"Is..." she took a deep swallow, "Is that Dally?"
Steve burst out in a fit of anger, "What the hell are you doin' here, Soc? Lookin' for trouble? I'll give you trouble..."
He advanced on her so quick we almost couldn't stop him, but luckily Sodapop grabbed his sleeve and yanked him back so hard Steve's head had flung rearward and gave him a good jolt. That didn't impress Steve too much. But he knew just as much as we did that he had to be careful, his emotions raging like they were. We weren't going to let him take on someone innocent.
I stepped forward to talk with Cherry, but she wasn't looking at me. In fact, she couldn't even see me, I imagine. Her eyes were still locked on Dally's limp body slung over Darry's shoulder.
"The fuzz get a hold of him?" she asked timidly.
Cherry Valance wasn't timid very often. It was weird seeing her that way. She must have caught on to our strange looks and swiftly changed the tone of her voice.
"Put him down." she demanded.
The look in her eyes had switched entirely to the opposite. At first looking very frightened and bewildered, she now had a fierce, lioness hue to her eyes. None of us were going to do anything other than what she said. Not because she was intimidating, but because we suspected something. My reasoning was a little different. I -knew- her secret.
The redheaded ball of fire, who's spirits' flames seemed to have been doused, sat down next to Dally who looked cheerfully asleep. It was a spooky kind of cheerful. It was an expression you'd expect to see on the suicidal maniacs in those horror movies who eventually kill themselves off to live in their own, crazy hell. I wondered what the end would be like for Dally. And then I remembered the end was already here. He was in his own crazy little hell.
Cherry stroked away some wispy strands of hair that had found their way back into his eyes just as the wind picked up. The sadness in her face was indescribable. But no one knew why she felt so much sorrow. Especially for a Greaser. No one understood, except for me.
In a last stroke of hope, the Soc slipped her fingertips to his neck and tried to feel for a pulse.
"Oh, God." she whispered into her hand which pressed firmly against her mouth, "He's so cold..."
Trying to warm him, though none of us found the sense in it, she threw her shawl about his shoulders, not caring if it soon became soaked through with crimson fluid.
"Take him to my house."
Darry's brow pursed with frustration, "What??"
"Take him to my house.." she repeated, again the meek little child she had greeted us as.
The gang, or what was left of the gang, looked at one another curiously and then, for some strange reason, at me.
"What do you say, Ponyboy?" Soda asked, seeming confused but at the same time amazingly calm about it.
I took another glance at Cherry who was still running her fingers fervently through his golden locks of hair, and I gave a quick nod for them to take him to Cherry's.
"What about your parents?" I asked quietly.
She looked up and wiped away a tear which hadn't earlier been detected, "They're gone on a trip for a month or so. We have plenty of time to keep him there and call a doctor to nurse him back to health."
Instantly, Steve gave a howl of triumph, "Good ole' Dally! Never could keep him down!"
Throwing a fist into the air he continued his expression of joy, while Sodapop nudged Darry.
"You mean he's... alive?" questioned Soda, after getting no response from my oldest brother.
It was weird how Darry looked all of a sudden when Cherry gave her small nod that meant, 'Only slightly'. It was as if a light had gone on within his head. Whatever was happening behind those icy eyes of his, it was awfully big. Like a rock had just been thrown at him and he suddenly got his memory back. Only better, and he hadn't lost his memory. But I had to tear my gaze away from him when Cherry ordered us to get into her car, which was just down the road. Turns out she hadn't been running all the way.
Once we were in, it felt as if the adventure were just beginning. Something new and strange was happening inside all of us, especially Darry. And we were all anxious to know what it was. If Dally survived, we would be forever changed. How, we didn't know. But that was part of the excitement.
A little about myself:
I have never written a fanfic on anything other than the book, play, and several-times movie 'The Phantom of the Opera'. Being the most romantic, classic, and creepy book I've ever read with the most captivating and strange character (our lead male, the Phantom himself), I was already infatuated upon first hearing the very song with the title 'Phantom of the Opera' from Andrew Lloyd Webber's musical. A couple or so years after this, I read 'the Outsiders' and was utterly obsessed with this book. Unfortunately, unlike with the Phantom of the Opera story, there were absolutely no outlets for me to express my devotion to such a beautiful but heart wrenching story. The controversial emotions displayed by all the characters are extremely brilliant, and I commend the gifted author S. E. Hinton. After reading this book, I fell in love with all the characters, even Cherry, the Soc. Even her book 'Tex' did not impress me as much. Dally, as is probably the case for many fans reading this right now, mostly caught my attention. He's the tough, distant man all girls dream of getting through to. Not that I would change him, but if I had the chance I would try to tug at his heart strings, because we all know that he indeed had a heart after his display of rage at Johnny's death. And as the main character, Ponyboy, pointed out, Johnny was the only thing Dally ever loved.
But...
What if there were someone who only loved one thing too? What if that person was Cherry Valance who would soon confirm that the possibilities of love for him are strong? What if the only thing she loved was him? And... What if he were subject to circumstances that would prevent him from being shot by the fuzz and engage him in wild and tumultuous feelings for someone that he utterly loathed?
Indeed, what if...
Well, as I hinted toward earlier this is my first attempt at writing fanfic for anything outside of the 'Phantom' realm.
But as I begin brainstorming for this story and start to fill this computer page with typed words and letters and imaginative ideas in sentence form, please take this advise:
Read the book 'Phantom of the Opera' by Gaston Leroux. He is the author of the very first book. It was his original idea based on some truth that he stretched into being the fantastic story of the infamous Opera Ghost. The reason why I say this is simply because I know I have fallen in love with the mysterious and alluring Ghost and I know that some of you out there will too. Also, go listen to the original Andrew Lloyd Webber cast for the Phantom of the Opera musical. That is with Sarah Brightman, Steve Bartan, and Michael Crawford (Monsieur le Fantome).
Please, I entreat you to get yourself interested in this story. You may find that it is exactly the opposite of what you may expect, and that will either end with good or bad results. Please, for my sake!! ;-D
And on to the fanfic in the making!!
By the way... I own none of these characters!! :-)
-Min Dear
Prologue: A Different Ending
'Dally raised the gun, and I thought: You blasted fool. They don't know you're only bluffing. And even as the policemen's guns spit fire into the night I knew that was what Dally wanted.'
S. E. Hinton, Chapter 10, Page 154, Second Paragraph, First and Second sentence...
The boys behind me were absolutely silent, and it was no surprise why. Dally was being murdered right before our eyes. Wasn't there a law against that? Killing anyone who held a gun up to the police, even if they're bluffing? It wouldn't make sense if there was. How would the fuzz know if someone was bluffing or not? I could imagine what it must be like to have that job. To have to search around town literally looking for trouble so you can get yourself involved and then somehow try to stop it. But then, Dally wasn't trouble... He was the other way around. Dally was trouble-d-. And that was why everywhere he went there was a mess behind him. He didn't know how to love, didn't know how to care, didn't know any other words than the three he lived by: loyalty, freewill, and revenge. And now, Dally was living by the consequences of these three rules. With each word came another with a contrary meaning: loyalty to betrayal, freewill to confinement, revenge to death. Which one was he suffering from now? All three? Just one? Two maybe?
But it didn't matter anyway. All this thinking until my head hurt wouldn't help anything. The scene around me seemed to be in slow motion. Even my own breathing, my heartbeat. Watching Dally go down wasn't easy, and neither was seeing the tears in Sodapop's eyes, or Darry's face contorted into a look of pure confusion and disbelief. At least he felt some sort of emotion. At least he could show that he cared for someone. Maybe Dally's death was all for the good...
I nearly smacked myself at that thought, but deep inside I still knew it was probably true. Dally hadn't really effected us before, hadn't meant a lot to us, even if we meant something to him. We always overlooked the things he did for us. Almost in retort to the crazy things he did, and for the constant bitter look in his eyes, even when we were around. I remembered in that moment what he'd done for me and Johnny while I saw Dally fall to the ground in a lifeless heap of blood, made into human Swiss cheese. He'd saved Johnny's life at the Church when it burned down, and he'd tried to save our behinds when we killed that Soc and gave us his gun, too. He did lots of things that would be in our memory's now that he was gone. But before, we hardly acknowledged that he even was human.
It didn't mean we hadn't cared for him at all. It just meant that we respected him more than felt for him. It's crazy how things can get so jumbled up and confusing when you're in a gang. When you're a greaser in general.
The cops didn't seem to wanna move, but that didn't make any difference. We didn't care if they were there or not. We weren't going to leave him there for road kill, or for them to deal with. Darry hustled over to put him over his shoulder, and Sodapop picked up Dally's gun that had fallen out of his hand while giving the cops a malicious look of pure hatred. I could tell that he was thinking, 'What good are the police when they don't even fight fair?' I could tell that we all shared the same opinion of them. Each of us had known before that the fuzz would never count us as citizens that needed protection too. We'd always be the ones they were protecting the citizens from, and they sure didn't do anything to change our minds that night.
After we took a few steps on down the road, we heard the cops reload themselves into their cars and move on in the opposite direction. Steve, through his massive tears, cursed them in every way possible until our ears were full to the brim of profanities. But we couldn't care less. This was life, this was normal for us. What else could we expect?
Just when the silence was almost too much to bear, we heard a young woman's voice behind us. I was the only one who turned to see who it was, and the first one to stop in his tracks.
"Hey, boys! Greasers!"
That word coming out of her own mouth stung like alcohol in an opened wound, but I quickly ignored the dangerous thoughts in my mind of the Soc's. Cherry wasn't like any other Soc. She was just human.
After Darry noticed that I'd stopped, he also halted and turned around to see who was calling us. I almost got sick seeing Dally's blood dispersed through Darry's clean, white shirt under his black leather coat. But what disgusted me most was the look on Dally's face, his eyes closed, mouth half open, drooling down the back of Darry's jacket. I had to look away before I puked all over the road in front of everybody.
Cherry was panting, obviously having run for a long time to get to us. How did she know we were here? The expression over her pretty face after she read my thoughts gave me the idea that it was unimportant.
"Is..." she took a deep swallow, "Is that Dally?"
Steve burst out in a fit of anger, "What the hell are you doin' here, Soc? Lookin' for trouble? I'll give you trouble..."
He advanced on her so quick we almost couldn't stop him, but luckily Sodapop grabbed his sleeve and yanked him back so hard Steve's head had flung rearward and gave him a good jolt. That didn't impress Steve too much. But he knew just as much as we did that he had to be careful, his emotions raging like they were. We weren't going to let him take on someone innocent.
I stepped forward to talk with Cherry, but she wasn't looking at me. In fact, she couldn't even see me, I imagine. Her eyes were still locked on Dally's limp body slung over Darry's shoulder.
"The fuzz get a hold of him?" she asked timidly.
Cherry Valance wasn't timid very often. It was weird seeing her that way. She must have caught on to our strange looks and swiftly changed the tone of her voice.
"Put him down." she demanded.
The look in her eyes had switched entirely to the opposite. At first looking very frightened and bewildered, she now had a fierce, lioness hue to her eyes. None of us were going to do anything other than what she said. Not because she was intimidating, but because we suspected something. My reasoning was a little different. I -knew- her secret.
The redheaded ball of fire, who's spirits' flames seemed to have been doused, sat down next to Dally who looked cheerfully asleep. It was a spooky kind of cheerful. It was an expression you'd expect to see on the suicidal maniacs in those horror movies who eventually kill themselves off to live in their own, crazy hell. I wondered what the end would be like for Dally. And then I remembered the end was already here. He was in his own crazy little hell.
Cherry stroked away some wispy strands of hair that had found their way back into his eyes just as the wind picked up. The sadness in her face was indescribable. But no one knew why she felt so much sorrow. Especially for a Greaser. No one understood, except for me.
In a last stroke of hope, the Soc slipped her fingertips to his neck and tried to feel for a pulse.
"Oh, God." she whispered into her hand which pressed firmly against her mouth, "He's so cold..."
Trying to warm him, though none of us found the sense in it, she threw her shawl about his shoulders, not caring if it soon became soaked through with crimson fluid.
"Take him to my house."
Darry's brow pursed with frustration, "What??"
"Take him to my house.." she repeated, again the meek little child she had greeted us as.
The gang, or what was left of the gang, looked at one another curiously and then, for some strange reason, at me.
"What do you say, Ponyboy?" Soda asked, seeming confused but at the same time amazingly calm about it.
I took another glance at Cherry who was still running her fingers fervently through his golden locks of hair, and I gave a quick nod for them to take him to Cherry's.
"What about your parents?" I asked quietly.
She looked up and wiped away a tear which hadn't earlier been detected, "They're gone on a trip for a month or so. We have plenty of time to keep him there and call a doctor to nurse him back to health."
Instantly, Steve gave a howl of triumph, "Good ole' Dally! Never could keep him down!"
Throwing a fist into the air he continued his expression of joy, while Sodapop nudged Darry.
"You mean he's... alive?" questioned Soda, after getting no response from my oldest brother.
It was weird how Darry looked all of a sudden when Cherry gave her small nod that meant, 'Only slightly'. It was as if a light had gone on within his head. Whatever was happening behind those icy eyes of his, it was awfully big. Like a rock had just been thrown at him and he suddenly got his memory back. Only better, and he hadn't lost his memory. But I had to tear my gaze away from him when Cherry ordered us to get into her car, which was just down the road. Turns out she hadn't been running all the way.
Once we were in, it felt as if the adventure were just beginning. Something new and strange was happening inside all of us, especially Darry. And we were all anxious to know what it was. If Dally survived, we would be forever changed. How, we didn't know. But that was part of the excitement.