Disclaimer: I don't own the Outsiders or the song "Follow Me Down"

Three Months Later:

Nights avoiding things unholy. Your hand slips across my skin. I go down on you so slowly. Don't confess none of your sins. Have I lost my mind? Have I lost my mind? Follow me down to the river. Drink while the water is clean. Follow me down to the river tonight. I'll be down here on my knees.

You're standing by my locker, your eyes big. You're watching me. You've been watching me for three months like you're waiting for something. Waiting for the snap. Waiting for the big blow. There's a lot to watch, I know, but please, it's not polite to stare, now is it?

I throw my failing book report in the back of my locker along with my suspension form. I'm supposed to get someone to sign it. Normally I'd just forge it, but the teachers have caught on. I know soon I'll have to give it to Tim, considering he's the only one home these days, and he rarely is. I could always get Curly to do it for me. He's not very trust worthy though. He'd tell Tim or David or Mom just for spite. Tim was my only option. Jesus, he was really lay into me.

Everyone's talking about it. I pretend like I can't hear but you're staring again, waiting. Always waiting.

"You wanna go get some dinner tonight?"

I shake my head. I've got other plans.

"Did you hear about that Grace girl that they found in the woods? Poor George. I think he really thought she might still be alive. Poor baby."

Everyone's talking about it. I wish they'd stop. I want them all just to shut the fuck up. It makes me remember and I don't want to remember. Nothing happened. I wasn't even there.

You stare at Mary Holden. "Fuck off, Mary. She took too many pills. Shit happens."

These are big words for you. I sneer to myself for a second, proud of my work with you. Even though you say it so low that only I can hear you, I'm still proud. I'm proud of you.

I haven't seen or spoken to George in a few days. After Grace went missing, he paid me a visit. He paid me visit after visit until they found her body. Maybe he finally felt bad. He wasn't cheating after all, his girlfriend was dead and it was fair game for everyone. Still, George left me just like they all eventually did.

The longest relationship I've had was a couple of months at most. Life's too short to have one relationship. Soon, I get bored, and I move on. Sometimes I want to stay and they leave, but I don't mind.

Mary eventually fumes off and it's just you and me again. You try to get me to talk about it. Express my feelings and whatever. The truth is, I'm Angela Shepard, and I'm not scared of anything, not even this. It was an accident. I was tripping, she attacked me. It was self-defense if nothing else.

I keep thinking this like I believe it.

Maybe soon I will believe that it was just an accident, and that I was just defending myself.

There's not a knock before the door swings open. "There something you're supposed to give me?"

Tim's not going to care about the failing grade. Normally he just laughs it off and warns me not to do it again, but I always do. Tim was really smart in school. He made A's on every test he took. He just never went to class so he failed pretty much everything. That's why he's now Just Tim instead of International Business Man Tim.

It's the suspension form that he's going to go ape shit about.

He goes over to my bag before I can stop him. I try recovering the note, but I'm too late.

"You brought my blade to school and threatened to stab someone!?"

I didn't threaten. I didn't say anything. I merely pointed at him. He's the one that went crying to the principle. It's really not my fault Billy grabbed my ass one too many times and I got sick of it.

"You could have gotten me caned!" The screaming starts and I hold back an eye roll. That'll only get me a slap across the face at this point. "God, you're so fucking selfish sometimes, Ang."

I turn around in my seat, avoiding eye contact, but he forcefully pulls me back.

"Give it to me."

I stare blankly at him, telling him that I don't know what he's talking about.

He tightens his grip on my arm. "That wasn't a question. It was more of a demand."

There's no way I'm giving it to him out of my own free will. No way in Hell. I need that knife. He has no idea what's out there and what I'm up against. He doesn't know why I've locked myself in my room at night or why he hears me screaming and crying in my sleep. Tim doesn't understand me. He thinks he does, but he never will.

I glare up at him, my expression unchanged. "That your way of telling me to fuck off?" he asks.

My hands turn into fists.

He rolls his eyes, pulling me forward. I learned a long time ago that I'm not scared of Tim. Sometimes I think I am. He tries to insure fear into me, but I'm not afraid of what he might do to me. I'm not an eight year old girl anymore that he can just push around. I'm not that easily thrown anymore.

I'm pulled out of my seat. His grip tightens on my arm, and the longer I refuse to give it to him, the angrier he gets.

After a few minutes, he shoves me to the ground, and I land with a loud thud. My butt aches as I look up at him.

He starts going through my drawers, looking everywhere for it. I try to get up and stop him, but he pushes me back down to the ground every time. I may not be scared of Tim, but he was still bigger than me.

When he finally finds it - buried deep in one of my skirt packet - he stands over me. "Don't fucking do it again." He points the end of the blade at me. "I'll kick the tar out of you the next time I see you with this thing."

I don't respond, though I never do.

"You better drop that look, or I just might do it now."

I don't care. I know he won't. I do know he's capable because he's done it before. Tim's never hit me like he's hit Curly, but he has raised a hand to me more than once.

He kicks my foot before walking over to the door. "You better watch yourself, little girl. I'm not telling you this again."

I cross my arms over my chest, my heels clicking against the cold hard ground. I'm in my best outfit, the one you and Tim both hate. You hate it because it makes boys look at me and not at you. Tim hates it because the holes show off what my mother blessed me with. He hates it when I dress this way.

You have a bottle in your hands, the front covered up with a brown bag. I take it from you because you don't drink and I do.

It's dark out. We don't know what we're looking for just yet. You're here because you have nothing better to do. I'm here to block out my mind and get away from Tim.

We walk down the streets, following headlights and working street lights, when we hear a string of laughter that draws us in immediately. We go to it. Whoever they are, they sound like they're having fun.

I stand in front of the dark blue car, my hands on my hips. I see what's going on here.

I tap my heel against the ground, making them all look up and see me.

"Shit, man," one of them says, rubbing his head. He tries hiding his blade behind his back. "It's his sister."

They all three scramble. I know them all. Everyone in this town knows these three, especially the one with big blue eyes who stands with confidence. Once he sees me, he doesn't scramble. He stands up straight, looking me in the eyes.

A smirk runs across his lips. "I think she wants to play, boys. Do you want to play, princess?"

I nod slyly.

"Go on and give her the knife, Two-Bit. Let's see what she can do."

He timidly hands over the blade, unsure if he can trust the devil or not.

I hold the blade in the palm of my hand, feeling the weight of it. This was going to good . This was so going to be good.

Dally takes my hand, leading me around the side of the car. He pushes me down on my knees and kneels beside me. He points to the back right tire. "Stab it as hard as you can, running it across the rubber."

I look up at you. You're standing over me with that look on your face that says 'don't do this. It's a bad idea.'

"Go on, princess," Dally coos. "Do it."

So I do. Air blows out and I slide the blade along the rubber just like Dally said. He's laughing hysterically and whooping and hollering. He's enjoying this more than I am. Here I am - his worst enemy's little sister - doing his dirty work.

A sly smile appears on my face once I'm done. All the tires are out now, and Dally stands proud.

He nudges me with his elbow. "Good job, sweets. Nice work."

I lick my lips over, imagining what Dallas Winston would taste like. I've never been interested, but tonight, there are no rules. It's fair game, and nothing matters anymore.

I lean against the hood of the car, smiling at him.

He grins. "What, princess?"

I continue to smile, giving him a free pass.

"Shit."

His hand wraps around my back as he pulls me up so our lips lock. He practically picks me up as he kisses me fiercely. His tongue hits mine again and again and again. He tastes like cheap beer and cigarettes. Though I don't want Dallas, I play a good act, and here and there, I think about going further with him, just to see.

Two-Bit whistles. "Shit!"

Dally and I don't move right away. That was the warning sign.

We were just too stupid to take it.

The next thing I see is blood. Dallas Winston's blood on my clothes. I can't see through the darkness, but I know who it is.

You've gone running. I think maybe Two-Bit took you and ran with the other guy. I'm not sure. All I know is that it's just Dally and I left and we have to face the monster alone.

"You think you can fucking slash my tires and fuck my sister, Winston?"

Dally stumbles, holding his face. He laughs through the blood. "Who said I slashed your tires? Your sister is a pistol, Shepard. I'll give you that. Too bad we couldn't make it to your back seat."

I hear the hits. I get up off the car and try to run too, but I'm pulled back.

The slap catches me off guard. I lose my footing and flat on my ass on the cold hard ground. I stare upward. "Don't. Fucking. Move."

I sit there and watch the fight until it ends and I'm dragged up.

He pulls me out of the car as soon as it comes to a halt in front of the house. The driver's side door slams and before I have a chance to lock mine, he's already there and it's flung open.

He doesn't say anything as he pulls me out. I stumble, losing my balance, but he doesn't notice or mind. He keeps dragging me towards the front door of the house with no regard to me. His nails dig into my skin and I wince. I am worried about what Tim is going to do to me. I'm not afraid. I'm not afraid of anything. I'm Angela Shepard. Nothing scares me.

Tim pushes me forward into the house. He has a hold of my shoulder so I can't run.

The door slams shut behind me and I know I'm in for it now.

The second slap doesn't catch me off guard like the first one. I expected this one. He raises his hand to do it again, but I catch it, holding it in place. My eyes glare up at him, my lips pressed together.

He drops his hand to his side. "Slashing my tires and having your tongue down Winston's throat? You're fucking in for it now."

I give him a look that tells him he doesn't scare me. Tim could beat me until I was black and blue, and I still wouldn't be afraid of him.

He grabs my arm, squeezing tightly. He starts to drag me to my room, when someone comes out of the downstairs bedroom. "What the hell is going on out here?"

David appears with red eyes and pit stains.

Tim pushes me towards him, sneering. He and I both know what the plan is now. "This little shit's been out slashing tires."

He doesn't say his tires, because he knows David could care less. He's playing this well.

David looks at me. "That true? You been slashing my tires?"

Tim doesn't answer the question. He knows I won't either and that it'll make David angrier.

I look behind me at Tim, and he doesn't hold back a sly smirk that says 'I win, baby sister.'

He pushes me towards David again so this time I'm right in front of him. I don't know which is worse, Tim wailing on me, or David. Eventually, Tim will stop or just give up. David never gives up and he doesn't stop until he's tired of hitting.

David assumes it's his tires when no one answers his questions, and he lunges for me. I try to doge him, but tonight, Tim's not going to stand up for me and protect me. This is what he wants - David to do his dirty work. It was the best of both worlds for Tim right now, and he leaves us alone.

As David starts to grab me, I plot.

Tim Shepard will be the fucking death of me.

When you're young you always take what you can get. Even bicycles and sprinklers get you wet. Now I know that there's a different way to die. My body breathes. Heart still beats. But I am not alive. Follow me down to the river. Drink while the water is clean. Follow me down to the river tonight. I'll be down here on my knees.

A/N: I have something big planned for the next chapter. So if you want to see it soon, please review! :)