Stumble
Chapter Fifteen
Disclaimer - I do not own the Outsiders. Or My Favourite Book by Stars.
-- Shattered but not lonely –
Dallas was still sitting outside my house when I went in. I think he was too shocked to do much else. He had gladly given in to the kiss, but then I'd gotten out of the car and made my way to the front door. I think it surprised him. But that didn't matter, because, for the first time in what felt like a lifetime, I was happy again.
Too bad all good things have to come to an end.
When I walked inside, I found my dad on the couch. I thought he was passed out at first, but as I passed by him, he moved. "Morgan," he bellowed drunkenly.
I stopped, the smile sliding off my face. "What?" I asked without turning around.
"Where've you been?" he questioned gruffly.
"Out," I replied simply, still not looking at him.
"You look at me when I talk to you." He took me roughly by the shoulder and turned me around.
"What do you want?" I asked as I stared up at him.
"Don't you take that tone with me," he slurred.
"Or what?" I shot back.
His answer came in the form of a blow. His hand came crashing down on the side of my head, knocking me to the ground. He kicked me a few times. I tried to get up, using and end-table to support me, but I just ended up bringing it crashing to the floor too, the lamp sitting on shattering.
He kicked me in the side of the head and I could suddenly hear Vanessa screaming. What's happening? I thought. Is he hurting her?
I got my answer when he hit me again. Nope, it's just me.
Suddenly I heard the front door bang open, there were more shouts. I couldn't tell what was happening, I was barely conscious.
It wasn't until the cool night air hit my face that I realized I had been picked up and carried from my house. I could hear sobbing somewhere nearby - Vanessa. But who was carrying me?
I must've completely blacked out for a moment because the next thing I knew, I was lying on something soft and there were more voices. I opened my eyes as much as they would allow. It was bright and my head was absolutely throbbing.
I looked around slightly. I was in the Curtis' house. Everybody was there. Pony and Nessa had fallen asleep in one of the more roomy armchairs. Vanessa's face was tear-stained. Two-bit was also asleep in an armchair, drooling. Johnny was on the floor, using his own jean jacket as a pillow. I could only assume that Soda and Darry were in there own respective bedrooms.
The light and voices in the room, I saw, were coming from the TV. But someone was missing. I looked around the room in search of Dallas. I found him. It seemed that my head was resting in his lap, his leather jacket thrown across me like a blanket. I looked up at his face to find him asleep too.
The last thing I remember before I passed out again, was the feeling of my own lips curving into a smile.