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? Criticism? There is only one way to share them. Hit the review button please and send them in.
Thanks to Sarahfouso I came up with a cure for writer's block. It's something you smell that he calming and awakening. Lavender and peppermint and read fanfic's. (Has not been scientifically proven.)
Anyway, every ounce of dark thoughts that are in my body were poured and concentrated into this chapter. It scares me to be honest. Hope everyone who loves darkness enjoys. :)
Randy's POV
The stupid kid deserved it. He killed my best friend. He is a murderer. Every pain I have felt is because of him. He thinks he is something and because I had more money it was my job to put him in his place.
In my drunken state I kicked and sliced every inch of Ponyboy. He cried out with every single blow and I relished in his cry of pain. The sound made me feel in power. I sliced his chest and he screamed loudly in anguish.
I let David take over as the dirty peice of scum passed out before me. I could see every rib bone poking out of his rubbed up shirt that was soaked in blood. I was so drunk I didn't realize if I didn't feed him soon he was going to die of hunger. I poured my wine on the half dead greaser before me, kicking him swiftly one last time before quickly staggering out of the basement.
Ponyboy's POV
"Soda?" I whispered. If it wasn't for the ropes around my wrists I would have thrown myself at him.
I looked at my surroundings and realized that Sodapop couldn't be here. I think I was hallucinating from hunger. I wondered if he was here to take me to heaven. I yearned for the darkness and pain free afterlife.
"Stay Gold, Ponyboy. You need to live. Keep fighting, Lil' Colt." Soda told me before vanishing.
"Soda!" I screamed as loud as my hoarse voice could mange. Randy came down the stairs laughing viciously.
He threw a small piece of bread at me and untied one hand.
"Eat it, kid. It will be all you get for a few more days." He told me. I slowly nibbled at it, feeling nausea consume me. My vision was blurry and I knew I had a concussion.
My stomach churned and I teared up, not wanting to loose my precious little bit of food. The food won out and I expelled the little food that just hit my stomach. I moaned in discomfort and agony of the bike against my raw throat.
Of course Randy Anderson saw this as a weakness and decided it was time for another famous beating. He punched me in the chest and I gasped in pain. He kicked my ribs until I heard two cracks. With one last blow to the head I was consumed by darkness.
Darry's POV
It had been the two longest weeks of my life. I those two weeks Soda never came out of his room unless it was to go to the bathroom. He had lost so much weight. If I was honest I wasn't much better, no reason for work or anything. Both of our bosses gave us a one month leave.
I tried every night to just coax Soda out to eat, but sobs were my only reply. I was worried that I was going to have to hospitalize him, but Steve was taking care of him for me and I was so grateful.