I took a break from writing, but I'm back with another story for The Outsiders universe. This one deals with Ponyboy's internal struggles months after the events of the book occurred. As always, favorites, reviews, comments, etc. are appreciated!
TW: PTSD themes
Disclaimer: I do not own The Outsiders or anything related to the story created by S.E. Hinton.
(Ponyboy's POV)
It was a rare spring day that the whole gang was free of work and school responsibilities, so the five of us spent the day playing football in the lot, followed by Darry grilling hotdogs. The grey winter seemed to drag on forever, but that could've been because we were missing two of our buddies, including my best friend. It was still only March, after all. It was barely not winter.
It took a while for me to physically heal from everything that happened the previous fall, but I'm pretty sure I'll never fully heal mentally or emotionally. How could I just get over losing my best friend? I knew my brothers were worried about me, especially those first couple months. I could see them glancing in my direction when they thought I was spacing out, which I did a lot. Darry always told me that my head's in the clouds, but I never noticed it until the weeks and months after Johnny and Dally died.
"Pony? You with me?" Soda asked as he elbowed me in the side.
I shook my head, trying to return to the present. I was sitting next to Soda on the curb, eating a hotdog, and watching Two-Bit and Steve have a contest in the middle of the street to see who could throw the football the furthest. They were both decent, but if Darry joined in, they wouldn't stand a chance.
"Pone?" Darry asked from above me. I felt his hand grip my shoulder and give it a squeeze before he sat down next to me. "You alright, kiddo?"
"Yeah, sorry. I just…" I trailed off, not really knowing how to explain myself.
"We know," Soda said with a grin, but his tone and facial expression were just a little off. I knew he was worried about me.
"I'm fine," I assured him. "Really." Then I took another bite of my hotdog right as I saw Two-Bit stumble, trying to catch one of Steve's passes. He was lucky he regained his balance before he fell onto the pavement. I knew Darry and Soda shared a worried glance, but I pretended that I was oblivious. I just had to prove to them that I was okay.
Once it got too dark for football, someone mentioned that we should have a bonfire at the lot, and within the hour, we had a fire going and Two-Bit somehow managed to get marshmallows. The guys were talking, once in a while bringing me into the conversation, but I mostly listened and just watched the flames.
The heat from the fire was welcoming since the nighttime had brought cool, crisp air. The crackling of the sticks that we found reminded me of larger fires that we had in the summer, back when we still had the whole gang. Once in a while, stray embers would land outside the ring of rocks that we arranged into a makeshift firepit, but they always fizzled out on the dirt.
As the night went on, I was listening to the guys less and I just mindlessly stared at the hot flames. Slowly, the world around me disappeared, and a strange, fuzzy world replaced it.
There's a burning church in front of me, and somehow, I know it's my fault. To makes matters worse, there's kids inside, and they're going to die unless I do something about it.
I ignore the fat man yelling at me and run in to help. To my surprise, Johnny follows me. Flames surround us, making it almost impossible to breathe. I can't breathe!
I knew I was breathing heavy, but I couldn't quite catch my breath. The heat from the fire in front of me was no longer welcoming; it was suffocating. With one loud CRACK, several embers went flying through the air, and I was back in that other world.
Johnny follows me into the burning building, even though I never asked him to. I'm glad I have someone else here with me, but I have a bad feeling about this. This is dangerous. Why is Johnny grinning?
It's so hot, and I know I'm sweating, but all I can feel is the flames burning my skin. I bet this is what hell feels like.
Johnny and I keep shoving kids out the window. This is no place for a kid to die. This is my fault. They shouldn't get hurt because of me; they're just kids! It was probably my cigarette that started this fire too!
"Get outta there! The roof's gonna cave in!" Dally's voice shouts. He sounds worried, more worried than I have ever heard Dallas Winston sound.
I look up, and the rickety roof makes me panic. We're going to be buried alive. There's no way Johnny and I can make it out in time.
"Get out!" Johnny yells, then I'm being shoved. I'm flying through the window, and before I know it, I'm on the ground.
I'm hot, burning in fact, but all I can focus on is the inferno. I look around, but all of the people and sounds are gone. I'm cemented in place, still burning, as I watch the building crash down and the flames expand into a huge fireball. Still, there was no sound except my heartbeat pounding in my ears.
"Johnny!" I yell, but there's no answer. I'm alone; nobody is around to hear me. "Johnny!"
The reds, oranges, and yellows mesh together with the charred timber of the old church, and my vision fades to brown.
I realized that I was shaking, sweating, and crying all at once. I didn't know where I was or what was going on, but I did know one thing: it's my fault that our gang went from seven to five. I led Johnny to his death, and Dally followed right behind him. It's all my fault.