One more chapter! I hate this chapter, I really do. It ends somewhat happily though, you'll see.
"Wake up sleepy heads!"
I groaned and pushed myself up. Dally was muttering curses, which I rolled my eyes in response to. I blinked wearily to see it was Ponyboy and some guy I'd never met that had woken us from our slumber.
"This is Two-Bit," Pony said. I nodded.
"I take it your Dally's girlfriend?" He asked, giving me a comical grin and raising one brow.
"Heh, yeah," I replied, falling down into the metal chair.
I was yawning. I perked up a bit and became more attentive when Dally asked about Johnny. Of course, I was braced for the worst.
"Passed out cold before we left him..." Two-Bit was no longer smiling. Dally started up cussing again. I looked away, unable to take in his reaction. This news pained him.
"You still have that fancy switchblade?"
Two-Bit handed it over without a word.
"We have to win that rumble tonight. We'll do it for Johnny."
They left after he had concealed the blade under his pillow.
"Do you want me to stay?"
"I don't care."
I took it as a no and turned to leave.
"Ana, come here."
I went over and bent my knees slightly so I could be closer to his face, which had softened considerably. He only got that way for two people, I know now. There was me, but long before me there had been Johnny, and he loved him like a little brother.
"Go home to your mom, you hear me? You can't look out for me anymore. I should've told Johnny this because…" his face scrunched up in pain for the shortest second, and then he regained his cold outer covering. He was mean Dallas Winston again. "You only look out for yourself, nobody else matters."
"I won't leave unless you come with me."
"Damnit! I can't go with you!"
My eyes watered. I fled from the room because Dally's racket was attracting worried nurses, and I couldn't bear to listen to him break it off with me. I didn't know then that he was only doing what he thought was best for me.
For another time I turned to alcohol. I found Monica's stash, which wasn't hidden so well –she'd hidden many bottles under her bed-. I would've found it earlier had I had any interest in it.
Monica eyed the two empty bottles of her fancy wine when she returned from a night out. The rumble was probably over by now – it had begun at seven. I wondered if Dally would stop by and take the ring back. I was trying to busy myself with a letter that I'd send to my mother, but my hands shook so horribly I couldn't write. How could I go back home?
Monica didn't ask what had happened. She sat on the sofa next to me and wrapped one long tan arm around my shoulders.
"You can start over again Ana," she soothed in soft whispers, patting my hair. She went off to shower and prepare for bed. I pulled my knees closer to my chest.
How had things taken such a horrible turn? When I had finally learned to enjoy my life, it crumbled and lied in ruins again. How had I managed to stay sane after all this time?
I was nibbling on my shaking fingers as I asked myself these questions. My desperate thoughts were stopped short a noise.
A thud on the door made a flood of despair and hope rush through me. I turned the knob with shaking fingers. Dally stood there, bruised, bloody, broken…crying.
"Dally…" I whispered, my eyes widening. I knew it was Johnny, I'd known by his injuries and the attitudes of the doctors that he wouldn't make it. I was surprised by the fact that he was so torn up, both physically and emotionally, and that he had come to me.
He didn't say anything, he just embraced me and began kissing too roughly. His tears wet my cheeks, and once he let go, I didn't wipe them off.
"Don't come after me Ana, you go home!" he yelled before taking off down the hallway.
I was startled. I wanted to listen to him, but I was driven to follow him by the heart that beat fiercely out of my chest. I heaved a shaky sigh, trying to decide.
I was doing just as my mother had, in a way. He told me not to go after him, to go off and live a better life while I had the chance, but I couldn't let go of him. It was impulse to follow him. It was vital, like the moment you break to the surface from being held under water you gasp for air. It felt that natural. Everything with Dally felt like that.
When I arrived out on the black streets of the night, I saw his silhouette passing under a street lamp a street ahead of me. I quickened my pace.
I followed him for almost ten minutes, keeping a distance behind him. I didn't know and couldn't think of where he was going or what he was doing. I was too preoccupied with watching as he cut corners and occasionally nearly tripped as he continued to sprint forward that I didn't hear the escalating cries of sirens. We were getting closer every step we took…
I only remember shock piercing me as bullets fired into the night. The blinking lights dazed me as I caught my breath. My eyes searched for him, and found him crumpled on the ground. I was too horrified to hear the voices of policemen or the thuds of feet that were nearing the scene.
"No, no. no!" I shrieked. My world collapsed.
I ran over, despite everyone calling me back. I couldn't see much, but I saw the lights bouncing off of him, highlighting his features, passing over a scar on his cheek. His eyes were closed, a bitter grin relaxed on his face. Blood seeped from several chest wounds. I didn't even feel the blood cover my arms, I could only feel his limp hand in mine as a squeezed it.
"You didn't tell me you were leaving like this." I sobbed, trying to lift his head. It lolled back lifelessly. Tears came in rivers and streaked my face. In that moment I could not comprehend a pain worst than this, and denied that I had ever cried, for these were the heaviest tears I had ever shed and compared nothing to the fits I'd had before.
Someone was dragging me off, I recognized the voice, but fought blindly against it. The voice was low, soothing, and was desperately trying to comfort me. I admitted defeat and collapsed into the arms that held me.