Wow. Nobody kill me, ok? I'm so sorry it's been such an incredibly long time I've written anything :( I've been so busy! But I promise I'll finish this story out, I never meant to leave it alone. This story was my baby and it should get an ending. You guys have been so great, reading it, and I wanna do this for you guys! So here's one more chapter closer to the end. I know it's a short one, but it's still something :)

Why don't we try harder than last time
To dry our eyes and smile
Someday, oh I'll make time
Yeah maybe, but not tonight
I'm trying as hard as I
Can to believe you
Don't lie

You don't get it
This is it, your last chance to dance
You don't get it, no

Lye- Josephine Collective

Ponyboy's POV.

I sat up with a start, my heart beatin' real fast, like a bunny rabbit's when it knows that there's a wolf creeping nearby.

I looked around as I stood up slowly, my body tense. I reached into my back pocket for my knife but it wasn't there.

Oh, damn.

My throat closed up as I took another look around. I knew where I was. I was by a lake-shore, an old rotting dock about 10 feet away, with a little boat was a beautiful summer night, stars sprinkled across the sky like freckles over Sodapop's nose. The air was sweet and warm, and I could hear little kids screaming and laughing far in the distance. Behind me was a long, wide, road, in front of me, a deep dark river. The moon hovered in the sky like a large glowing balloon, reflecting real pretty-like on the water.

My parents used to take us boys up here every summer for a month for two, before they died. It was their way of makin' sure we stayed out as much trouble as possible for the summer, but still have fun. So every year since before I could remember, the day after school ended, we'd all pack up the little Volkswagen we had and head out on the four hour drive to the lake.I was always squished between Soda and Dar for the long ride, but we always cranked down the windows as far as they went and let the breeze blast through the car.

This was one time of the year we were allowed to eat junk food, so we'd stop at one of the gas stations and our parents would let us pick out two "treats", as they called 'em, for the ride down. I'd always get the Cheetos and a Root Beer, and Dar would get Licorice Whips and a chocolate bar. Soda, true to his name and crazy nature, always went down the aisles and picked out the two wackiest named sodas he could find, and that was his pick. We'd eat it in the car and laugh, everyone sharing the candy around and laughing hysterically at Sodapop's wild stories and my Dad's jokes. He had been the funny one in my family, along with Soda. I ended up with my mother's eyes, Dar got my dad's personality, but Soda got the humor gene.

It was called Wish lake, after some old man, Bob Wish, who was the mayor when the little town beside the lake had just been built.

Soda and Dar and I used to bike way down the old dirt road, and try to pick up girls at the bond-fires that they held for the teens at the lake once a week, on Friday nights. All the local kids would come, along with the "summer-timers" as they called us. We were some of the kids that didn't exactly fit in, with out greased back hair and our plaid shirts and jeans. The kids out here wore shorts and were tan, with bleached hair. But it didn't matter boundary lines at the bond-fires, they'd blast music and we'd all talk and laugh and dance, and swim at the shallow beach right by the bond-fire pit. Us boys would come home high off the energy of a crowd of teenagers, smelling of cigarettes and booze, even though we were expressly forbidden by Dar to have any while we hung out near the water. My mother lived in fear we'd get reeling drunk and stumble into the water and drown, so if we came home even the slightest big buzzed, we were done for.

That lake, those summers were what I lived for when I was younger. I'd turned absolutely brown from being out in the summer all long, and so'd the rest of my family. We'd come home at the end of the summer sunburnt and smelling stale (the only washing machine was in town about a mile's bike ride, so we usually just washed our clothes in the lake).

But it was worth it. When we were at the lake, we didn't need alcohol to have fun. Just being with my buddies, my brothers, was enough.

I'd gotten my first kiss at the lake. I don't know how I'd forgotten that. Her name was Becky, and she smelled like soap and flowers. Her smile had lit up the dark. That lake, held some of my best memories and moments.

The sand crunched under my bare feet as I walked closer and sat, kinda nervous, on the dock edge. The wood creaked at me when I sat down but stayed strong. I smiled. My dad had been good with his hands, just like Dar was now, and he built it from nothing one hot Oklahoma summer.

I ran my hands over the splintered wood, tears coming to my eyes.

Damn.

When you missed someone, but they'd been gone for a while, it wasn't always constant pain. That was only when it was fresh and new and scary. After a while, you could go some days without thinking of them. There were times when you could do something you had used to do with them without the pain punching a hole in your heart.

Then again, there'd be days I'd look at a flower and couldn't breathe because I'd be hit with an imagine of my mum sitting in the tiny community garden, a hat slapped over her curly hair and she'd glance up as the gang and I walked by to the lot, shade her eyes with her hand, and wave. I'd always wave back too, no matter if Dar or Soda acted embarrassed at this show of love in public.

I wanted just one more hug, one more wave that I'd never get.

There were times where'd I'd see a football and want to cry, knowing I'd never throw one to my dad and hear him cheer when I finally managed to tackle Soda, 'cos I was faster.

I sighed and took my hand off the dock, feeling small and alone, like I was locked in a dark room and no one had the key in.

I got up and started walking away, feeling tears go down my cheeks like rain on a window. I didn't try to stop 'em, I was sick of being tough, an unfeeling grease. When you were one of us you rolled with the punches, laughed off the bloodshed, and wanted violence.

I just wanted to belong to someone again.

But my parents were gone.

I didn't even know where my brothers were.

Hell, I didn't even know if I was still alive.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Oh man, my head hurt. I tried to peel one eye open but then snapped it shut again, a real bright light slicing through my head and making it throb even worse. I groaned out loud.

Man, if this was heaven, I didn't want any part of it.

With a groan, I tried to sit up but didn't get all the way up. I flopped back down, my energy gone.

I was scared.

Where were all the sounds of my home? I couldn't hear the TV blaring with the Tulsa news station Darry always watched as he got ready for work, or Soda and Steve squabbling over who got the last beer, or the constant slam of the screen door. Our house was like a train station; people constantly coming and going. Dar always bitched how fast the screen door wore out because it was in use so often, but I knew he'd rather have young greasers crashing on our floor or couch than out of the streets in the early hours of the day.

Sometimes, on the sunny summer days, when everyone was out playin' football in the lot and I stayed home to read (Soda and Two-Bit always teased the mickey out of me for it, but I didn't mind,) I could even hear my mother playing piano. The sound would drift out the windows to the porch swim that I usually sprawled out on, and hung on the breeze before drifting away. I always smiled when I heard it, the noise like a hug, a little friendly wave from her to me, from heaven.

But there was no music now. The air here was silent and cold, like the graveyard. I forced my eyes open.

It was white and sterile and smelled like death here. Where the hell was I? My heart beat erratically as I looked around to find myself in a bland hospital room, needles stuck in my arm, hooked up to a machine that seemed to beep and stutter along with the beat of my frightened heart.

"Soda…?" I called, my voice coming out as a pathetic squeak.

Why was I alone?

I know, I'm cruel. but no worries my little muffins, I'm gonna try to crank out another, longer chapter (whose point of view to you guys want? Darry, or Soda's?) hopefully today I love you all! Please R & R