"Ponyboy!" I screamed. They shot him! They shot my brother!

I struggled to be free of their grasps, but I couldn't. I squirmed, trying to break free, but to no avail.

"What were you thinking? You just killed that kid!" One of the Socs said.

"He's not dead, look at him." The one with the gun said.

And we did. He wasn't dead! He was breathing heavily, struggling for each breath.

"So? You still shot him! Do you want to go to jail?"

"I never thought of that."

"Come on, let's get out of here before the cops come."

Then, with one final blow to my middle, they ran to their cars and drove away.

Doubled over, I crawled over to Pony's side. He was still unconscious. Blood drenched his shirt, and he looked like with each breath he got weaker.

Finally getting my breath back, I scooped down and picked Pony up, rushing to the truck.

I was so hurt, too, that I don't know how I got him to the truck with out passing out. I was sore and bloody. Each step was a struggle, but I had to. Pony was all I had left. He couldn't die!

I drove as fast as I could to the hospital. When we finally arrived, I jumped out as fast I could, rushing Pony inside.

"Doctor! I need a doctor over here!" I yelled upon my entrance.

Soon nurses and doctors rushed around me. One brought over a stretcher and I laid Pony down on it. Soon they were moving him elsewhere, and I ran along side the stretcher, holding Pony's lifeless hand.

When we got to a set of doors, one of the nurses turned to me and said, "This is as far as you go."

"But I have to go back there with him! What if something happens to him and I'm not there?"

"I'm sorry, sir, but if you go back there, you'll pose a greater threat than if you weren't."

"But. . .he needs me."

"I'm sorry. You're just going to have to wait." She said quietly, then she took my baby brother from me.

I watched him through the window of the doors, until they turned a corner and he was gone.

I slowly returned to the waiting room. I collapsed on one of the chairs, and began to cry.

A nurse came over to me and started fixing up the cuts on my face and arms. I was detached to all pain, but she continued to work on me.

"Sir, do you hurt anywhere else?" She asked softly.

"No."

"Okay, sir. Can you fill this out for me?" She held out some papers for Ponyboy and me. I filled them out. I don't know how I remembered our information in the state I was in.

I sat there, bawling my eyes. I was so afraid that I'd lose the only person I had left in the world. What if he died? How would I go on? Could I go on?

Pony was the only person I loved. When I lost Soda, I thought my world would end. Soda was so close to me and Pony. He was there to keep us from fighting. He listened to us when we were hurting, but never asked for anything in return. Pony and I took him for granted. But it's too late to fix it. And that's the thought that's killing me.

My strength was drained. I fought to stay awake. I couldn't fall asleep now. What if Pony needed me?

If Pony died, I would feel so horrible. My heart would shatter to a million pieces. I was so mean to him. I should have been better to him. I shouldn't have hit him. I shouldn't have yelled. I should have comforted him. I should have helped him when he was hurting. I should have. . .

"Mr. Curtis?"

I looked up. A doctor was standing in front of me. I couldn't help but notice the blood stains on his scrubs.

"Yes?"

"I figured that was you. You and your brother looked alike."

That was a first. Wait a minute, did he say "looked?"

"Where's Pony? Is he okay?" I said anxiously.

"I don't know how to say this, but. . .Pony died a few minutes ago. He lost too much blood. We weren't able to save him. I'm so sorry."

I watched the doctor slowly walk away. I took a few deep breaths, but they were interrupted by the sobs that took over my entire body.

Pony was dead. He died saving my life. I hadn't been able to save his. I'm a horrible brother. How could I have done this to him? I killed him! Why did I have to go and see who was in a fight? Why couldn't I have left well enough alone? Pony was dead. That's all I knew.

I slowly got up from my place in the waiting room. Before I could go to the truck, I had to run to the bathroom, where I was sick.

I looked at my face in the mirror. I was pale and my eyes were bloody red. I had a bandage over my right eye, and my left eye was turning purple. What did it matter? Pony was dead.

I went home. How I knew how to get there, I don't know. My mind was blank. No thought went through my head. The only thing I was truly sure of was that Pony was dead.

I went inside the house and into my room. I passed out on the bed, and I didn't get up for about fifteen hours.

Every time I woke, I knew that Pony was dead, and that was it.

Pony, my little brother who had suffered so many losses in his life. Pony, who was a dreamer who like to watch the starts and sunsets. Pony, who was the sweetest of the gang. Pony, who I loved more than anyone else. . . was dead.

Mom was dead. Dad was dead. Soda was dead. Pony was dead. What did I have to live for? I was alone in the world. No one was left to care about me. No one was left for me to love. No one to work for. No one, no one, no one. I was an orphan, with no family to call my own. Two-Bit was still there. Steve was far away. But we weren't really family anymore. We weren't close as we had been. It was final. Nothing to live for. No hope. No love. Nothing.

I finally got out of bed. I went into my parents' old room. I opened up a few drawers, looking for something. I finally found it. It was Dad's old gun.

I placed the bullet inside. I cocked it and placed it against the side of my head. With nothing to live for, why should I go on with life? I was going to end mine. At least then I'd be with family. . .

"Mr. Curtis?"

I was jerked awake by a doctor. I looked around me. I wasn't about to kill myself. But. . . was Pony dead?