I'll be good and not leave those cliffhangers for another chapter. Here's some answers to your questions!

Johnny's POV

Dear Pony,

I understand your need to rant every now and then. You need another friend, someone outside the gang. The gang is too hard to listen to you the way you'd want. I hope you can find someone to listen to you so you don't have to wait to write me to get your feelings heard.

Pony, I'm scared. Tom, my roommate, stabbed himself today. They took him to the hospital, but I haven't heard anything else. I don't know where he got that knife. It looked like one of the kitchen knives, but how could he take it without anyone knowing? He must be pretty miserable for that to happen. I hope he'll be okay, though I don't think that's what he wants.

How's Dallas doing? Have you heard from him lately? How about Two-Bit and Steve? Is everyone doing all right? I hope so. I worry about them. Maybe needlessly, but I still do.

Write back soon.

Your friend,

Johnny.

I leaned back, content with my letter. I looked up at the top bunk, almost expecting Tom to be up there. I couldn't understand why he would do that, why he would try to kill himself. Was it so bad here? We're fed, shelterer. That's more than I could say about my house. I didn't know about Tom's home life. Well, I didn't know much about him at all. He usually kept to himself. When we talked, it was mainly just about me. I felt bad about never finding out what was wrong with him.

I folded Pony's letter and placed it into the envelope. I licked the lining, grimacing at the taste. Once it was sealed, I flipped it over and wrote Pony's address. I didn't get the stamps, so I would leave it like that and wait for someone to come in and take it so it could be mailed.

I left the envelope on the desk and got up to go to my bed. I lay stretched across the bed, my hands behind my head. I wondered if anyone would come to see Tom in the hospital, if he had family who'd rush at the chance to see him. I envied him if that was the case.

I must have fallen asleep thinking about it. I was awoken by a knock on my door. I sat up, nearly hitting my head on the top bunk.

The door opened and one of the supervisors walked in. She looked upset and I feared the worst.

"Johnny... Tom died on the way to the hospital. It was too late to save him. I'm so sorry."

I felt the blood drain from my face. I should have expected it, should have known it was going to happen. But I still wasn't prepared to hear those words.

"We'll be in here in the morning to get his things. Do you think you can get them together for us?"

I nodded. "Where will his things go?"

"Well, he doesn't have any family, so we'll keep them until someone claims them."

"Oh."

"Try to get some sleep. You'll get a new roommate soon." She smiled softly.

When the door closed, I let the tears fall. Poor Tom. No wonder he killed himself. There was nothing for him here, nothing for him when he got out. I had planned suicide many times in my life, but never had the nerve to actually do something. Besides, I had the gang. They were my real family.

Even as I thought those words, I knew they weren't true. Sure, the gang protected me, were always there for me. But it wasn't the same as a real family. I wanted more. I wanted a mom and a dad who'd love me, take care of me. Not just a bunch of kids who had no one else.

When my eyes were dry again, I decided I'd gather Tom's things. But when I found his journal, I knew I couldn't give it to them. I'd keep it, try to figure out who the real Tom Spencer was.

I went down to my bed and opened his journal to the first page. It read "Thomas Aaron Spencer." I didn't know his real name was Thomas, or his middle name was Aaron. Another thing learned.

I flipped to the last page, knowing it'd be the most recent. I wanted to know what he said about killing himself, if he had said anything at all. I found a poem waiting there.

Giving Up The Fight

by Tom Spencer

Life holds no meaning

I'm all alone

I'm left out

And unknown

People look right through me

I have no friends to call mine

No family to love or care

I keep telling myself I'm fine

But I know it isn't true

I don't want to go through this anymore

I don't want to struggle

I want more

I'm giving up the fight

So the pain will end

I'm giving up the fight

Because my broken heart can't mend

No one has been there for me

So what do I have to lose?

My life holds no meaning

No love and no hope for me

I've suffered long enough

I'm ready to be free

Of the pain growing inside

I take the barrel and place it to my head

And know in a matter of minutes

I will be dead

I know this isn't right

It's an unforgivable sin

But metal never felt so good. . .

I gave up the fight

I wondered why he used a gun in the poem instead of a knife. It didn't really matter, though. The story was still the same, ending with the same tragedy. The words sounded so familiar. Would I end up the same way?

Pony's POV

Soda and Darry were at work. I had just gotten home from school. I was thankful they let me go finally. I didn't like being babied at home. We couldn't afford the time Soda and Darry took off anyway.

I read Johnny's letter. When I finished, I knew what I could do. I wheeled down to the phone, picked it up and dialed the number written on the slip of paper.

"Hello?" She answered.

"Hi, Rose? This is Pony."

"Pony! It's so good to hear from you! How are you?" She sounded excited.

"Um, not too good. Do you think you could come over for a while?"

"Sure. I'll ask Mom and see if she can drive me. What's your address?"

I gave it to her and she hung up, promising she'd be there soon. I decided I'd wait for her on the porch.

Within half an hour, she was there. Her mom was going to go grocery shopping and promised to be back within two hours. I hoped it'd be enough time.

She walked up the sidewalk, smiling at me with a warmth in her eyes.

"Hey, Pony," She said as she came up to me on the porch.

"Hey. You want to come inside?" I asked.

"Wherever you're comfortable."

I smiled and led the way into my room, hoping that if Soda came home he'd leave us to our privacy. She took a seat on my bed and I stayed in my wheelchair. She sat, silent, waiting for me to talk.

"I-I'm sorry to bother you. I just needed someone to talk to."

"Don't apologize. That's what I'm here for. So what's got you looking like you're ready to give in?" Her voice was gentle.

"What hasn't? I can't walk. I can't see my best friend. I can't talk to my brothers, the two people who would actually listen, because if I tell them that I'm so depressed they will only worry about me. They don't need that. They already worry enough. Darry has an ulcer. Worrying will only hurt him more. Soda isn't the same. He doesn't laugh as much as he used to. The gang is falling apart. I hardly ever see Dallas. Two-Bit isn't around as much and when he is you can tell something is bothering him. Steve was kicked out of his house by his father, who beat him. I can't take all this misery. I just want it to be over." I saw Rose look up over my head, but then rest her eyes back on me. I covered my face with my hands, trying to fight the tears away, but not doing a good job of it.

I felt warm arms wrap around me. Rose hugged me tightly. I could hear her speak soothing phrases to me, but I couldn't make them out over the sound of my sobs.

A handkerchief was pressed into the palm of my hand. I used it to wipe at my tears. I finally dared to look up. When I did, I was staring into the teary eyes of Sodapop.

Rose was sitting on the bed still. It hadn't been her hugging me, soothing me. It was Soda. He had heard what I said.

"You can tell me anything, Pony. Please, don't feel like it'll make me worry too much. That's what I'm here for, what Darry's here for."

"Soda," I cried, burying my face in his chest as his arms encircled me.

Two-Bit's POV

Molly nodded in understanding. She knew what I feared and she was probably feeling the same thing.

"Come here," She said opening her arms to me.

I smiled, blinking at the tears. I was surprised by her changed attitude. She usually is so bitter, but now she seems resigned to her fate.

I moved onto the bed beside her. Her weak arms wrapped around me. I hugged her lightly, trying not to cause her any more pain. We sat there for many minutes, just holding each other. After a while, I felt her go limp in my arms. I let go of her gently, placing her arms back to her sides. I watched her peaceful face, with some fear that she wasn't going to wake up.

Mom was waiting for her turn when I came out.

"She's asleep," I said, my voice breaking slightly when I said "asleep," for the fear that it was the coma.

She nodded, but went inside anyway.

I walked away, sitting on one of the benches in the hallway outside. I leaned back, closing my eyes. I fell asleep, only to awaken to my mother's scream.

"No!" She shouted, her voice so broken I felt my pulse begin to race.

I was nearly run over by a team of nurses and doctors. I followed after them. Mom was sobbing, hugging herself as she watched Molly's face. I could tell by the racing monitor that her heart beat was irregular. Looking at Molly, she looked so dead. Was she yet?

The doctors worked. When the beep held one long note, they placed panels onto her chest. After the doctor said "clear," Molly's body jolted upward. The beat didn't change. They repeated the procedure three times, but she was gone.

"Oh, God," I breathed, tears already formed in my eyes. I held my stomach, about to wretch. Mom's broken sobs and screams reached my ears as I ran down the hallway and into the public restroom. I vomited, choking on the sobs. I breathed deeply in an attempt to calm myself. She was gone. My sister is gone. There was no coma, no long wait to see when she would die. She was just gone. And there was nothing I could do to stop it.

I stumbled out of the hospital, heading home. I had a stash of beer waiting for me. I could barely see for the tears flowing from my eyes. People turned and stared when I was coming. I didn't look at them. I couldn't see them. I just wanted to be home, drunk enough to forget the pain, to make it go away.

When I got there, I immediately opened a bottle, drinking until it was empty. I stumbled toward my mom's room, reaching into her drawer. I found a gun, what I wanted. Could I really do this? Would I?

I had a call to make.

Darry's POV

I went inside our house, finally home from work. I looked around. Soda and Pony weren't around. I assumed they were already in bed. I sighed. I hated this, hated missing them so much during the day.

I was barely through the door when the phone rang. I went over to it, answering with a gruff hello.

"Hey, Darry." Two-Bit's voice was sad, gentle.

"What's up, Two-Bit?" I asked, fearing something was wrong.

"I just...I wanted to say that...I appreciate all you and the gang have done for me. I'm going to miss you."

"What are you talking about? Where are you?"

"At home."

"What happened? Where are you going?"

"Molly died." Molly? His sister?

"Oh, Two-Bit, I'm so sorry." I looked up and saw Soda standing in the hall. His eyes looked red, like he'd been crying. I glanced at him with concern, but turned back to Two-Bit.

"I-I can't take this anymore. I don't want to go on like this."

"Two-Bit, I'm coming over." I felt panicky. What was he talking about?

"No. It's what I wanted. Don't blame yourself. Don't let any of the gang blame themselves. This was my choice."

"Two-Bit."

"Look in on my mom every now and then okay? I hate to do this to you guys, to her. She's going to be sad for a long time. I probably shouldn't, but... Darry, I can't do this."

"Please, Two-Bit. Listen to me. You have to keep living! For Molly. Please, Two-Bit."

"Bye, Darry."

"Two-Bit! Two-Bit!" I screamed.

But the line was dead. And I feared so was Two-Bit.

Ooh, another cliffhanger. Don't worry! I'll try to be good and update this weekend. And Rose will make lots more appearances.