Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own The Outsiders or Ponyboy. Sigh. The owner is he best author ever, S.E. Hinton. I also do not make a profit from what I write on this site.

A/N: Suggestions? Comments? Only one way to share them. Hit the review button please.

Darry's POV

I heard Sodapop's scream echo in the distance and I took off running towards the sound. I couldn't even call it a scream, it was more like a heart wrenching wail.

When I reached him I saw why he had screamed so loudly. He was clutching Ponyboy's shoe, and on the sidewalk was blood. Something bad had happened, we all sensed that. Steve came up behind us and saw the blood. He turned and ran to the nearest pay phone to call the cops I assumed.

I grabbed Soda's arm and helped him up. We needed to get to the house to talk to the police, and fast would be the best.

The walk was slow and silent. We were running, but time seemed to slow down. When we finally reached the house we could hear the faint wail of the police sirens.

I explained to the police what had happened, but what they said shocked me.

"We can't do anything until tomorrow. He's not missing until twenty-four hours." The cop told me, leaving. I wanted to sock him hard, I was so dumb to think that a cop would help a greaser.

Poor Sodapop collapsed onto the couch, sobbing. I knew he wouldn't sleep tonight without Ponyboy.

It was going to be a very long few days.

Ponyboy's POV

Pain. Pain was my new constant. It was predictable. It was always there somewhere. Randy had come down six times since I was first taken. Time slipped away. Pain marked each hour.

Randy had kicked me in the head so hard I had been out for some time. I don't know how long. Every part of me burned and I think my leg and a few ribs were broken. Randy came in with another one of Bob's "Pet Monkeys" as the gang liked to call them. Randy took a swig of his alcohol.

"Murder." He growled venomously, spitting at me. I whimpered in anticipation of the beating yet to come.

He punched, kicked, and sliced me everywhere that would cause me to black out. I was awake for every second of it. Reality was a blurred line for me due to starvation and blood loss. I cried out with every new wound. I bit my lip so hard that my lip was bleeding and I could taste blood. The taste made me sick.

That left as my vision clouded. I turn my head and threw up nothing but bile. It had been days since I had eaten. I got half a glass of water a day, but I threw most of it up. I finally was able to let the relief of darkness flood my aching system.

A/N: That took longer than it should have. Suggestions would be greatly appreciated. I'm really sorry it was short, but I'm tired again.