I lay down on my bed, clutching my brothers' shirts in my hands. I could smell their scent. They smelled like home.

Tears formed in my eyes, and I tried to wipe them away. It was no use. I was alone. Alone in an unfamiliar place, I had no one to talk to and no one to love. It was the worst feeling in the world.

I could picture Darry and Soda, both working hard to get me back. But were they? I didn't know. I hoped they were, but even I couldn't be sure. If they were, I hoped they'd hurry. I was sick of this place. It was killing me to live here.

I fell asleep with Soda and Darry's shirts in my arms. I imagined them hugging me, taking good care of me. I wished I could feel their arms encircle me, giving me the comfort I needed.

But it never came.

The next morning, the fourth day I was there, I finally got up and ate something. I made myself some toast with butter and jelly. But then I couldn't eat it, because the jelly made me think of Sodapop and how he loved to eat jelly with his eggs. I poured myself a glass of chocolate milk, but didn't drink it because it reminded me of my brothers, and how we all love chocolate. Everywhere I went, there was a reminder of my brothers and with each one, I felt my heart break again.

So I didn't eat for the fourth day in a row. It didn't bother me that much, because I wasn't hungry. I didn't want their food anyway.

Mrs. McCool stopped in to see me. I wasn't very happy to see her, but I thought she might have some information on Soda and Darry.

"Hello, Ponyboy." She greeted me.
"Hello, Mrs. McCool." I replied, not very enthusiastically.

"I've come here to tell you that you are supposed to eat. Or did you forget to bring your appetite along with you?"
"No. I'm just not hungry. I don't want anything those people make, anyway."
"Well, 'those people' work hard to make meals for you boys. You should be grateful and eat it."
"I'm not hungry."
"Pony! You haven't eaten in four days. Don't think I don't know what's going on here. You need to start eating, or you'll make yourself sick."

"Fine, I'll eat. Now I have some questions."

"Go for it."
"When can I see my brothers?"
"Well, we've been over this before. You won't be allowed to have any visits until you've been here for at least two weeks, and then, maybe not. You need to adjust to living here before you see your brothers."
"Why? I just want to know they're okay and that they're going to get me out of here."
"Ponyboy, listen to me. You are not 'getting out' of here. You'll be staying here for about three years, then, when you're eighteen, you'll be allowed to leave. Until then, you'll stay here."
"WHAT!" I shouted.

"What, Pony? Can't you hear? Or did that go out with your appetite?"
"No. I have to see my brothers! It'll kill me if I don't!"
"I highly doubt that. If you had stayed with them, you would have."
"NO! You don't understand. Darry didn't mean to hit me. He was just mad that I had been out drinking one night!" I stopped, realizing what I had just revealed to her.
"Oh, really? And why hadn't Darry been with you to stop you from drinking?"

"Because. . ." I couldn't tell her he let Soda and me go wherever we wanted, as long as we were back by midnight.
"I see. Well, like I said, you'll be here for another three years. I'll be back to see you in a few weeks."
When she closed the door, I broke into tears. I realized I'd probably never see my brothers again, and it was my fault.

I wanted to die.