It's been six months since I died. Since then, things haven't gotten better for everyone, but they haven't gotten worse either. They've stayed pretty much the same. Dallas and Johnny are still in New York. I don't know exactly where they are though, so I don't check in on them. I don't know how they're doing, or when-or even if- they'll come back to Tulsa. Johnny use to write letters to Soda, but he's started to less and less. I'm kind of worried what that means. All I really hope is that they're doing ok, and that Johnny isn't hurting himself anymore.

Soda and Darry started working again. Darry is taking it harder then he wants anyone to know. He has this emotionless expression on his face all day. When people ask him if he's doing any better he'll say he is. But I see him cry in his room at night when he's alone. I don't like to, but sometimes I can't help but watch him, because I know it's my fault.

This is all my fault. Never before have I felt so guilty. Everyday, I just sit here and watch my brothers and friends grieve over me, and I want to somehow tell them not anymore, but I don't know how. I want to know how Johnny and Dally are doing, but I don't know how to find them. New York is so big and with some many greasers and gangs hanging around, they're just ants in a colony. Sometimes I think about visiting Cherry, but I decide not to. I feel like if I did see her and she wasn't doing well, that'd just make me feel even worse. So I just imagine she's happy and doing well, and sometimes for a little bit it helps make me feel better.

The main reason I hate myself so much for all this, is seeing how Soda handles it. He's a complete mess, it especially got worse after Sandy left and moved to Florida. He has become more of ghost than I am. Everyone sees how bad he's doing, but they're all dealing with it themselves, so they don't say anything. I think that's what makes it even more awful. That they've all gotten to the point where they don't even talk about it anymore. It use to help them get a little bi better. They didn't notice it, but I did. Once they stopped, their recovery did as well. Why can't they see that as painful as it is to talk about bad memories, it helps you move on from them?

I haven't tried talking to Soda since that one night. I feel like if I do, it'll bring his hopes up that I'll somehow come back, or make him even more depressed. But one night, I just couldn't take it anymore. He had just cried himself to sleep. He hadn't done that in awhile, but this time when he did it, it was awful. He just couldn't stop. And it was the hard crying too. The kind he did the night I died. When you're sad and angry at the same time, you're blaming the world for whatever bad thing just happened and you just can't stop.

I waited a few hours until after he'd fallen asleep. His breathing was a little harder than normal, which he does when he's in a deep dream. I knew this was the right time, cause he could possibly hear me, but wouldn't wake up. So like I did the night I did it for the first time, I sat next to him, and said his name quietly,

"Soda,"

He didn't respond right away, but finally, I heard him talk in his sleep. "Pony,"

I smiled for the first time in months. Soda could hear me, he really could.

"Soda, I'm so sorry for doing this to you, to everybody. I really wish it didn't have to happen this way." I confessed. Once again, it took him awhile to say something.

"Pony," He started

"Yeah Sodapop?"

"I wish, I was with you." He said. My mouth dropped open when he said that. What did he mean by that?

"Soda?"

He didn't answer after that.

Soda woke up late the next morning. It was a Saturday, but Darry had a roofing job and had to wake up early to go to it. I knew Soda was a little disappointed, he wanted to talk about last night with somebody. I pretty much knew by now he could only talk to me when he was sleeping, so it would be pointless to try and get him to talk to me now.

As he walked into the kitchen, there was mail on the table He picked it up and began flipping through it. Most of it was bills, but then there was a white envelope, with cursive writing on it. Soda knew it was Sandy's handwriting. He flipped it over and tore it open. As he unfolded the letter he quickly read it. As I watched him, I saw his expression change. His mouth dropped, and his eyes became glassy. When he finished, he tore it up, and ran outside.

"Soda! Wait!"

Before following him, I tried reading the letter. I made out the word 'baby' but that was it. But that wasn't important, I ran after Soda. I found him inside our shed, he was crying again like he did last night. I heard him drop the f bomb in between a sob. He finally calmed down, when something caught his eye. He leaned over and picked it up. It was too dark for him to see what it was. He took a deep breath then started to walk back out into the daylight. As he did I saw what it was- a rope.

"SODA!"

Next thing I knew, everything was all white and bright, like before I was brought back to the fire. Was I in Heaven or something? Just then, I saw someone call my name from behind me. "Ponyboy,"

I turned around to see Johnny, but he looked different. His clothes were the same he always wore, they were cleaner. His face didn't have any scars or bruises on them. His eyes showed no fear. He looked...at peace.

"Johnny?"

"Don't worry now, Pony everything is going to be ok in a minute." He told me calmly.

"Johnny, what happened?"

"That was all to show you, Ponyboy. Things happen the way they do for a reason. As much as we'd like to change them sometimes, we really shouldn't. Cause we never know what would happen if we did. Fate is a thing nobody should mess with. I really am sorry me and Dally had to leave with way we did, and I'm also sorry you had to see what would happen if it was you that got hurt. But just keep in mind that from hear on, things will get better and easier for you. You'll be happy again, you'll start watching sunsets every night, you're future holds things more amazing than you can imagine, Ponyboy."

"Johnny, I'm so sorry, for everything. Please forgive me."

"I already have." Johnny said to me. After I said that, I hugged him, and he hugged me back. It almost made me feel stronger somehow. "It's time to go now." He told me.

"I love you like a brother, Johnny."

"I love you too." His face began to fade and everything started moving real fast.

"Soda..." -my voice sounded weak and hoarse- "is somebody sick?"

"Yeah." His voice was oddly gentle. "Go back to sleep now."

If I only could,

Make a deal with God,

And get Him to swap our places,

Being Running Up That Road,

Being Running Up That Hill,

With No Problems

Ta-da, the end! I know this was a short story, and I'm sorry if you wished it was longer, but I hope you liked it regardless. Please review and let me know what you thought of all this! I love you guys and I have a new story coming soon for you all! Stay Gold!