I DON'T OWN THE OUTSIDERS OR ITS CHARACTERS, I DO OWN TYLER WETZLE AND JOHN SMITH

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

THE OUTSIDERS 2; JOHNNY

CHAPTER 1: NOTHING

It was seven years to the day that Johnny died. Seven years from that hopeless, life-ending day. I never quite got over everything that happened. Those sorts of scars never heal.
Life progressed slowly and mildly after that. My grades teeter tottered between passing and failing. Cherry and I had dated briefly when I was sixteen, but we never really became anything more than friends. I guess a part of her died with Bob.
When I was eighteen, I moved out on my own. Soda Pop and Darry both ran a service station (Curtis Bros.) and Soda was taking a night class on journalism at the community college. When I left, Soda said that if I was ever drafted, the whole army would have to go through him; Darry said he take me up to Canada where we'd hide out. Something about "hiding out" rubbed me the wrong way; I still can't eat baloney.
So there I was, living in a studio, attending college in Texas. I'm majoring in journalism, just like Soda. I'm still not sure want I want to do for a living, but I might try my hand at a novel.
Everything thing was regurgitated in a wave of confusion the night of the anniversary of Johnny's death. It was a brisk night and the stars shined clearly in the crisp air. I was walking back to my apartment after a night at the local burger place with some friends. I climbed the stairs of the buildings interior and reached my door. I inserted the key and unlooked the studio's entrance. As I stepped over the threshold and into the darkness, I heard a faint noise, like whispering. I grouped for the light switch as I realized it was wind. The hum of the fluorescent lights started as the room was lit. My studio was in shackles! The glass from the window ceased to be their as the breeze shuffled the pages of my textbooks that had been torn from their seams.
I heard a soft shuffle behind me, and turned, to find nothing. Then again, the same shuffle from the opposite side of the room. I turned to find, nothing. This time a swish, I turned and caught a glimpse of a sleek shadow dart off to the right. I turned, my eyes in an attempt to follow it, but the lights suddenly blacked out with a crack of thunder. Slowly, the lights pulsed with a dim glow. Sparks fell from the light to my left. A dark figure stood before me, silhouetted by an unseen light.