Title- The Tale of Ronnie

Chapter Title- Realized

Disclaimer- I do not own The Outsiders

Reviewers-

XAmberX- Yeah,let'sdo the ones where school's started already, then we'll do yours.The ones 'round here don't start 'til September… I'm not starting until the 7th…

Punkforever- Next chapter is here at, once again, 2 a.m.

Note- I'm so excited... I finally got my Green Day c.d. It's an old one, "International Superhits!" but, I was dying to get it. My friend is trying to buy me caffeine pills, which would end well. The plus side would be that I could keep writing well into the night and not get tired. I wouldn't have to drink all those sodas to get a high. The negative side would be my grouchiness. I had to change my screen name due to some privacy issues dealing with a certain family member… my new one is xshellzx1891x (it's actually an older one but I need to use it now)

"Ronnie, Ronnie, Ronnie," somebody called while shaking me. 'Ugh,' I thought, 'call me one more time.' The person sighed and left the room. 'No,' my mind shouted, 'you need to call me!' I rolled out of my bed and made sure my feet landed at the same time. I walked out of the room using an equal number of steps. 'Everything has to be even, it just has to,' I thought. Even is perfect and nobody can die when things are perfect. I hated death. It's even worse when you are the cause of death. I killed my baby brother. I was supposed to protect him and I killed him.

"Well, good morning sleepy head," Uncle Steve said. Why was he here? I looked at Nate, maybe he knew. He just shrugged. Was it a weekend? Oh, it was. My weekends started to run into my weeks and I got confused.

"Are you not talking?" I wanted to talk. I didn't want to kill anybody else. Words were uneven, not perfect. I wanted perfect, no, I needed perfect. I shook my head.

"Are you trying to be like your brother?" No, I wasn't trying to be him! I had my own reasons. I shook my head again. You know what? This is annoying. A few words won't kill anybody. Maybe that's not true. The words "I didn't care about the dumb baby, it could die, I wouldn't care," killed my baby brother.

"I, I don't wanna kill anybody else," I whispered. It was the truth. I wondered if they knew I killed him. I wondered if they hated me.

"You killed somebody?" Two-Bit asked looking at us from the couch. They were so confused. Maybe they were scared. I hoped that once I told them, they would just leave. They would leave me alone so I couldn't kill them. Maybe I should leave.

"I, I killed my brother," I said. I stared at my feet. Suddenly, the hole in my sock became very interesting.

"You didn't kill him, he's right here," Two-Bit said. He pointed to Nate.

"Not him," I whined, "Jonathon." I felt my ears get hot. I must've been really red. Everybody looked confused. I didn't want to explain. I just walked into my room and buried my face in my pillow. I sobbed.

"I killed him," I screamed. I repeated it over and over again.

"I, I d, didn't mean to," I cried. I heard somebody walking over to my bed. I was pulled into their lap and they started to rub my back. I rested my head in the person's stomach.

"Honey, you did not kill him. I don't blame you, c'mon, be a big girl. You're a tough girl, and you didn't kill anybody." Was that mom? No, mom was mad at me. She hated me, she hated me for killing Jonathan. I looked up and wiped my tears off of my cheeks. It was mom. But, why was she here?

"Mom," I said.

"Yeah, shush, baby, it's not your fault." Didn't she understand? I killed him. I made him not want to live. It was my fault. It was, it was! She held me tightly, shushing me, and rubbing my back. I kept crying, but she only held me tighter. I wanted her to go away before I killed her too.

I don't remember much after that. I woke up, under my sheets. I was still in my clothes. I felt good, like I had slept for a long, long time. I didn't really feel guilty. Well, I felt guilty, but not as guilty. Hearing my mom say it over and over, I started to believe her. I looked over to my side. My mom was sleeping next to me. She needed the sleep. I put the blanket over her and walked out. I didn't count! I was debating whether I would go back or not, but somebody grabbed my wrist. There was Nate. I shoved him away, gently, and then went back to count. I couldn't stop it. He grabbed my wrist again.

"Huh?" I asked confused. He brought me over to the table and pushed me into the chair. In front of me was a piece of chocolate cake. I looked at the clock. 8:15, I was going to be later than I normally was. I shoveled the cake in and ran back to my bedroom. Last time I was late, the teacher told me not to be late again. If I was, she was going to call my parents. I checked the mirror, well, I was fully dressed. I would be so embarrassed to walk into class missing something. I finished tying my shoes as Miss Mathews honked the car horn. I grabbed Nate's hand and ran out with him.

"Good morning," she said smiling. I returned the smile; I was in a good mood. My mom was getting some sleep, I felt less guilty about Jonathan, and I was going to be on time. Things were looking up for today. It was nice out and Christmas wasn't too far away. I loved Christmas, but Jonathan would never be able to experience a Christmas. Great, now the guilt came flooding back. I put my head in my hands and started to cry, I hoped nobody would notice. Miss Mathews never said anything and I doubted Nate would.

We pulled up to the school and I quickly wipe my eyes. I wiped my nose on my shirt sleeve, I knew that was gross but I didn't have any tissues. I opened the door and stepped out. I saw the kids leaving the playground and going into the school. I could still be on time! I grabbed Nate's hand and pulled him out of the car. I ran into the building. I smiled at the teacher because I was on time. She gave me a warm smile back.

School was boring. We weren't bothered by anybody so nothing was interesting. Miss Mathews didn't drive us home. Mom was there. She smiled at me as I opened the car door.

"Thanks," she said to me. What did I do for her? She helped me; I didn't do anything for her. I don't think I did anything.