Thank you for the reviews and follows. I was going to wait to post this, but since today is Sodapop's Birthday (Oct 8) I thought the occasion called for a new chapter.

Chapter 3

(Afternoon)

Darry

The house had been quiet since Sodapop left. Sure, Two-Bit and Steve came over from time to time, but it wasn't the same. Pony had been quiet too, but he was always ready with supper and a smile by the time I walked through the door in the evening, and didn't seem to mind spending the evenings cooped up in the house with his big brother.

I guess that's what put me on edge the second I stepped through the door. No matter that I'd gotten off a little early, I still expected Pony to be home from school by then. But there was no clanging of pots and pans coming from the kitchen. No sounds of running water as he did the dishes while he cooked like he liked to do, unlike our wilder and messier middle brother. There were no smells of spaghetti or baked chicken or the chocolate cake that he'd made only on rare occasions since Soda had got drafted. There was no warm glow of light spilling over into the living room from the kitchen.

It was still light enough outside that even with the lights off I could see he'd left the house spic and span, and that only seemed to enhance the emptiness of the place. Our house was never that clean, even when it was time for a visit from the state. But I suppose that no one had really been by to mess it up, and it looked like with just a little bit of effort, Pony had managed to get the place almost as nice as Mom used to keep it.

Since supper wasn't ready, I checked my wallet. I had enough set aside that I could take Pony out for some burgers down at the Dingo. He'd be shocked if I treated him to a night out tonight and tomorrow.

I was halfway to the kitchen, my eyes on the freshly baked chocolate cake in the center of the table, when I spotted the envelope sitting on my recliner.

xxx

Dear Darry,

I hope you found this letter before the police found me. If you did, nothing will make sense yet, but it will. I think I got it figured out so that you will get this letter first. I didn't want you to have to go through the police coming to the house or your work and doing that whole 'we regret to inform you' thing that they do and it be a surprise.

This way maybe you can be ready for it.

I'm going to tell you what I told Sodapop. And that's that I'm sorry. I tried to be okay. I tried not to live in a vacuum. I tried not to let my life stop just because I lost someone. But it didn't work. I been trying and trying since Johnny and Dally died, and before that Mom and Dad, and no matter how much I pretend, nothing is changing. I'm still empty inside.

I want you to know that none of it is your fault. That night I ran off with Johnny wasn't your fault. I shouldn't have been out so late, and I shouldn't have argued with you. I don't know how we got to that point back then, but I'm sure I had a lot to do with it. I couldn't see how much you cared about me for the longest time. But I do now. I want you to know that. I can see how much you love me, and I love you too.

That's why it ain't your fault now either. I got real good at hiding things. I didn't want you all to think any less of me or look at me different or treat me different or something. Or think you needed to look out for me again. It's hard to explain…everyone already thinks I'm a kid. It's like I ain't as tough as the rest of you on the inside, and you all know it. But I didn't want to admit that to anyone, especially you. I know it doesn't always look like it, Darry, but I respect you. And Sodapop. And Two-Bit. Steve too. So, I guess I didn't want you all know how weak I really am. I wanted to be tough like you, but I'm not. I tried to be strong like you taught me. I fought as long as I could. I'm just too tired to fight anymore. I'm drowning, Darry. And I've been drowning for a long time.

I know no one will understand, but I want to try to explain it anyway. I'm afraid to go to sleep at night. I'm afraid to wake up. I hear their voices everywhere. I can see them everywhere. It's like their ghosts are following me or something. I know ghosts ain't real, but it's like they live in my head. I can hear Johnny screaming for me and see him all burned up every time I smell smoke. And Dally, I see him go down under that streetlight every time I hear a loud noise. I see him on every corner. And at night, they ask me why I killed them. Why I let them die. I kept telling myself it wasn't my fault, but maybe it was. I ain't crazy either. I know they ain't really there. But I can't get rid of the memories. Of the guilt.

You've been a real good big brother. I can't believe you gave up on your dreams for me and Sodapop. You know, Steve called me a hero once, but he was wrong. Anyone would have run into that burning church, but not everyone would have given up on his dreams and worked from dawn to dusk just to put food on the table for his bratty teenage brothers. You did though.

You remember how Dad used to say that there were a lot of ways to get the measure of a man? That you have to judge a man by what he does? Well, you measure up. He would be proud of you, Darry. I know I am.

We've had a lot of good times, haven't we? I forgot about those for a while. But now, sitting here writing this, I can't pick just one that I want to remind you about. There's so many. I guess that's what is so hard on me...I can remember being happy. But I can't be happy now. It's like when the sun shines in the winter but you're still cold inside.

Glory, I thought of one. You remember when you lost your favorite football, and no one knew where it went? The one Dad gave you for Christmas that year before they died? It's on the neighbor's roof. In the back. Down in the gutter. Me and Johnny were playing with it and it got stuck there. I was always too scared to tell you. Seems stupid now. Hopefully you'll get a good laugh out of that one day.

Well, I'm rambling. I guess it is because saying goodbye is so hard. You're real smart, so you probably got it figured out, but that's what this is. This is my goodbye. I can't live like this anymore. I'm a stranger in my own life.

I left letters for Steve, Two-Bit, and Mom and Dad too. They're on the kitchen table. Can you take Mom and Dad theirs and read it to them? I hope they ain't mad at me. Or disappointed. Just read the letters to them, okay? Don't worry about Johnny and Dally. I asked Sodapop to take care of that.

I hope you ain't disappointed either.

Bye Superman. I'll miss you.

-Ponyboy

P.S. Sorry I lied to you about going to the movies, but I can't wait to do this any longer or I might chicken out. Or Soda might get his letter and figure out a way to call you. But it would've been real tuff to see a show with you again. I know you won't feel like doing nothing, so I cleaned the house and left you some food. Eat it, Darry. Take care of yourself.

P.P.S. I love you. I always have. Don't forget that.

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