Johnny's POV

I sank down on my bed, shaking. I had gotten quite a scare when the workers came in to pick up Tom's things. They questioned the journal, thinking it was Tom's as well. Luckily, they believed me. I still felt the scare.

I turned and grabbed the journal from the other side of my bed. I opened it to the first page with writing and read.

Day one in Hell.

What good is this place to me? It doesn't make me feel like I should stop doing things that are considered "bad." Sure, I got in trouble, I got arrested. Who actually gives a damn, though? I don't. And my family sure can't care.

Why do I always have to think about them? Every time I do I feel like crying. But, then, I suppose anyone would if they went through what I did.

I shiver just thinking about it. Months of psychiatric help didn't make any difference. It still haunts me.

Anger wells inside me just thinking about what happened to them. I wish I could have joined them. Why did I live? Why did I make it? I didn't want to, not if they were all gone. If just one of them survived, I could consider living. But without all of them? Life's just not worth living.

The screams still echo in my mind, including my own. My little sisters' screams sound the loudest. Three sisters, two brothers, my parents all gone in just a few minutes.

I miss Mom the most. Mom would care that I was in trouble. She'd lecture me, but her concern would still be there. I'd know I disappointed her, and I'd find some way to make it up to her, never getting in such trouble again.

I see I'm getting a roommate. The last one got to leave. I was still in here for three months. It wouldn't matter, though. Whether it was here or somewhere else, I was going to stop this.

I leaned back. Was he already contemplating suicide? I wondered what it was that happened to his family. It sounded pretty serious. Tom was definitely a haunted person. Was that why he had had nightmares?

Reading that, I found some comfort in the fact that Tom didn't enjoy the life he was living. I couldn't imagine him being happy with his life and committing suicide. But if he was miserable, I could understand that.

Suicide seemed the easy way out for me. It always had. I had come so close so many times. Once, it was so close, that Two-Bit found me with my knife in hand. He didn't think anything of it, but if he hadn't shown up, I wondered if I'd still be here.

The gang was always there to stop me. That was the good thing. I couldn't stand my life at home. Mom and Dad were always fighting with each other, and when they weren't, they were fighting with me. I had grown immune to the physical pain, but inside, it was killing me slowly, drawing me closer and closer to the point of suicide.

I turned back to Tom's journal, hoping I could get some more answers on his life.

Soda's POV

I couldn't believe it. Two-Bit had tried to kill himself? Why? I understood it must have something to do with his sister. But why wouldn't he tell us about that?

Mrs. Mathews had surprisingly fallen asleep. Darry was leaning forward, his elbows on his knees. He was watching Pony intently. Pony was asleep still, for which I was thankful.

"Hey, Darry," I tried to get his attention.

He looked up slowly, reluctant to take his gaze off Pony.

"Yeah, little buddy?" He turned his attention to me.

"I-I have some things to tell you."

Concern flashed in his eyes.

"What is it? You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. It's... it's about Pony."

Darry's gaze shifted to Pony then back to me.

"What's going on?"

"Um... yesterday, when I came home from work, Pony was talking to Rose in our room. You remember Rose, don't you?"

"Yeah, the girl from the hospital."

"Right. Well, um, he said some things that caused some concern."

"Like what?" Again Darry looked at Pony.

"He was telling her about how he's upset about everything. He doesn't want to tell us because he doesn't want us to worry so much."

"What do you mean 'everything'?"

"Two-Bit being so mysterious, and now we seem to know why. Dallas never being around. Steve getting kicked out of his house. Johnny being away. Your ulcer. And apparently, I don't laugh as much anymore."

Darry went into deep thought. He looked between me and Pony. After several minutes, he cleared his throat, tight with emotion.

"Did you... were you there for him? Did he know you heard?"

I nodded.

"What'd he do?"

"He cried."

Darry's eyes looked rather wet, too. I felt the emotions of yesterday, lodging in my throat.

Darry and I were silent, lost in thought. Later, Pony began to stir. Darry moved to the floor in front of his wheelchair.

Pony opened his eyes and moaned groggily. He looked around frantically, until he rested his gaze on Darry and he seemed to remember where he was.

"Hey, baby. Um, Soda was telling me about what happened earlier."

Pony's eyes flashed to me angrily. I was surprised by the sudden anger.

"You told him?" Pony's eyes held such a fire I was frightened.

"Pony, it's okay. You can tell us when things are bothering you. You don't have to do this alone," Darry said gently.

"How could you?" Pony's attention was still on me. Though I had made no promise of keeping what happened a secret, I felt guilty.

"Pony, I-" I started but Pony backed away from Darry and wheeled himself as quickly as he could.

Darry and I exchanged glances. We moved to follow him, but a doctor came out asking for us.

Darry went and woke Mrs. Mathews.

"We're his family," I answered, feeling no awkwardness. We were as much family as Darry, Pony, and I.

"Hi, I'm Dr. David Ballard. I'm Keith's doctor." He held his hand out and each of us shook it while introducing ourselves.

"Have a seat," Dr. Ballard suggested.

We all sat. I looked anxiously in the direction Pony went. I prayed he didn't go far.

"Keith's progress is encouraging. We were able to remove the bullet easily. The amount of blood loss did raise some concerns, so we will be administering blood transfusions and we will continue to observe him for a few days. If there is no change for the worse, he should be able to be released."

Mrs. Mathews covered her face with her hands and cried. I couldn't imagine what she was going through, just losing her daughter and coming that close to losing Two-Bit. I found it strange when the doctor called Two-Bit by his real name.

"May I see him?" She asked.

The doctor nodded and escorted her to Two-Bit.

Darry sighed with relief. We both stood and faced each other.

"We better go find Pony."

I nodded in agreement.

We walked through the hospital, but we didn't find him. I assumed he left, which scared me. It was after midnight. Who knew who'd be out there.

Pony's POV

My arms ached. I had gotten far fast. I continued to wheel myself, past the pain in my arms, the pain in my heart.

I didn't want them to know! How could I have let them hear, let them know how I was feeling? I let my guard down and it was going to cost me. It would be too hard on them now, knowing I had the pain. If they knew...God, how could I have let them find out?

I shouldn't have told Rose. I should have kept it inside. I knew they couldn't find out! I pushed the wheels harder, making myself suffer more for being so stupid. I had no destination in mind. The darkness of night calmed me, the shine of the moon beating down on me. I watched the moon light reflect off a puddle. The moon cast shadows that were never there before and I felt the hairs raise on my arms.

The hospital was far behind me. Darry and Soda would only worry more now. Why did I leave?

I must have known subconsciously where I wanted to go. I found I was at the park... the park where this whole nightmare began.

I went to the fountain and stared down at my reflection. It had been cleaned since then, the blood no longer there. I felt the frustration. If those stupid Socs had just left us alone, if I had never met Cherry or Marcia, if we had never gone to the movies, if I hadn't fallen asleep in the lot...

There were so many "ifs." The ifs were the worst part. Just one moment could have changed it all. Why did I let it happen? Why didn't I leave the girls to fend for themselves? Why didn't I go home after leaving them with their boyfriends?

This all could have been avoided. One moment. One change. One thing done differently.

I screamed as loud as I could, finally feeling free of the anger.

Darry's POV

Soda and I were driving around in the truck looking for Pony. We hadn't found him inside the hospital. He had to have gone somewhere else. I didn't know where we'd find him. I drove toward home, hoping that was where he was headed.

The blood was still visible in the truck. Soda tried to sit away from it. He made a point of not touching it, though it was dry.

"Where could he be?" I breathed. I felt fear rise in me. What if something happened to him? I could imagine the many things that someone could have done to him. He was a helpless kid in a wheelchair. What criminal wouldn't go after him?

I ordered Soda to roll down the window and I did the same with mine. I screamed outside the window, hoping no one would mind. I knew it was late, but my baby brother was missing and I had to find him.

In between our screams, Soda and I heard another scream. I recognized it as Pony, though the pain and anger of it was unlike him.

I sped toward the park, assuming that was where I heard it.

I parked the car and we both ran into the park. I spotted him over by a fountain, crying. He was sitting on the edge, not in his wheelchair, which was right beside him.

"Pony!" I screamed, increasing my speed. Soda and I ran to him. When I made it to him, I sank down on the ground in front of him.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt?" I demanded, gripping his chin so he was forced to look at me.

"N-no," He stuttered.

"Oh, God, Pony." I gripped him fiercely, hugging him tightly to me. I felt a sob in my throat and I let it out as the tears spilled from my eyes.

"Stop doing this to me," I cried into his hair as I pressed my face to the side of Pony's head.

"I'm sorry," I heard Pony reply.

Soda's arms encircled both me and Pony. I reached a hand out and squeezed one of Soda's wrists tightly.

The three of us sat there and cried. Pony was safe. I cried from fear, from joy, from sadness. I could have lost Pony again. I didn't care that he was only gone a little while. So many things could have happened to him. He was hurting inside. Soda and I were going to help him, whether he wanted us to or not. We were going to worry, sure, but it wouldn't fill up all of our day. We were supposed to worry.

I understood now what Mom and Dad were always talking about.