Disclaimer: I don't own the Outsiders the song "My Songs Know What You Did In The Dark"
B-B-B-Be careful making wishes in the dark, dark. Can't be sure when they've hit their mark. And besides in the mean, mean time. I'm just dreaming of tearing you apart. I'm in the de-details with the devil. So now the world can never get me on my level. I just gotta get you off the cage. I'm a young lover's rage. Gonna need a spark to ignite.
They've stopped talking about her and what happened. I've stopped having nightmares and seeing the blood on my hands. Bigger things are going around, and it holds everyone's attention.
I've heard all the rumors about my brother and his gang. People ask me questions every day and I hear the whispers. Tim has always told me not to listen and if I had anything to ask, I was to ask him. I didn't used to believe what I heard in the halls at school, but I'm starting to listen now. Things are being said and things are starting to add up.
I didn't know who Grace's brother was at the time. It wasn't until the rumors started that I figured it out real quick. It makes me panic, but I remember that only you know what happened, and you'd never tell on me.
Tim's under attack by his worst enemy, second to Dallas Winston. There are many speculations why, but I haven't figured out the whole story yet. It's not like I can ask either. Tim won't tell me, and I don't speak.
"Hey," he says, slowly coming into my room. "You alright?"
This is the first night he's been home in two weeks. This is the first time he's spoken to me since that night he pulled me off of Dally.
I don't look up at him.
He enters the room anyway. "He didn't wail on ya too bad, did he?"
He's leaning against the frame of the door, watching me do my homework. He thinks it's my homework anyway. I haven't done homework since elementary school and I had to draw a picture of what I wanted to be when I grew up.
I drew a picture of a girl with a gun and a bunch of dead bodies and I got my hands slapped with a ruler. Later came the consoling and learning how to be a proper young lady.
"Well, you totally deserved it, you know that?"
He knows I'm angry at him and that I have a good right to be. Tim always complains about the way David acts, yet he throws me at him and gives an open invitation for him to do it.
"C'mon, Angel. You were on the hood of my car with Dallas fucking Winston of all people. Don't play dumb either. I know you did it on purpose."
Curly is on my bed, reading one of my girl magazines. He's only reading it so he'll have something to think about tonight when he's alone in his room with nothing to do. I've caught him stealing them before and I wonder why he can't just steal Tim's porn. He's got a whole stash under his mattress.
I'd be lying if I said I hadn't looked at one here and there.
Curly huffs, flipping the page. "Looks like she doesn't want to talk, Tim." He laughs like he's made a really funny joke.
Yeah, I'm the joke because I don't speak yet he's reading a Seven Teen magazine to masturbate to.
Tim's staring at me, waiting for a response, but I don't look up. He's not just apologizing. Tim doesn't apologize. He recognizes what he's done wrong, but in the end, he wants you to be the one apologizing.
"Fine, fuck you then."
The door slams, and he's gone.
"He has better things to do than deal with this," Curly says from the bed. "Maybe if you got your head out of your ass, you'd realize you're just being a little shit."
The shadows cling to the side of the house and start moving. I can't tell if I see the boys or darkness shaped like them. The ground underneath is breathing up and down, up and down, like the demons below are trying to tell us that they are here, and they are watching. They see us at this party, and they know what we're up to.
You take my hand. You're scared and this makes me laugh. You're scared of everything.
There's a boy that stands on the front pouch. He's holding out a drink for me and I take it and he takes my hand.
The walk is a mile long to the back deck. I hear my footsteps echo on the wood. The drink in my hands is cold and as I drink it, my insides turn to fire. It burns everything inside of me. Everything I try to hide and keep locked down. This kills them, and that's why I drink and drink and drink.
The boy's name is James. He invited us here. He's in my history class. He passed me a note with a cat on it. I want your pussy, it read. I drew back a picture of a roster missing its head and wrote: I'll tear you apart. And this is what led to me being here. You came for the ride and because you were so excited James invited you too and you blushed.
You won't do anything but sit in the corner and make me leave early, but I let you tag along.
James takes me up to a bedroom. There's a girl inside on the phone and he hisses at her. "Get the fuck out, bitch." The girl rolls her eyes and James yells after her. "Turn off the lights."
"Does it hurt?" he asks me.
The bed creeks as he moves up and down, up and down.
I shake my head.
"It feels good, right?"
I nod my head.
He gives me a cigarette once we're through. His fingers brush against my skin and he tells me what we just did was beautiful. That I'm beautiful and he's never met anyone as beautiful as me.
I smoke and nod. Same line every time. I wish someone would be original for once. That would be nice.
An hour later and we're back down stairs. James gives me something cellophane out of a make-up compact and I take it like I do every time. I let it dissolve on my tongue and I smile up at him.
The lights are out and everyone's dancing. James leads me through the crowd and sweaty bodies bump up against me. I wonder where you're at. What you're doing. Are you safe? I think all these things but I don't go look for you. You'll find me when you need me or when I need you. Whichever one comes first.
James and I keep dancing. He keeps lighting cigarettes and joints and putting them in my mouth like candy. The song slows down and his cold hand slivers up my stomach and touches my breast and he squeezes hard. I shut my eyes and let my body move with the music as I feel his pants getting bigger and harder against my hip.
A few songs later and I find you on the sofa alone. I run over to you and lay my head down on your lap. I'm smiling and laughing but you look like your dog just died.
"I want to go home."
I close my eyes and pretend like I don't hear you.
You push your finger against my temple. "I'm going to leave. Come with me."
James is motioning me to come back to him. I'm sweaty and out of breath. I can't see straight and the room is spinning.
I find myself back in James' arms and you're gone.
Drinks are being poured down my throat like water and boys are surrounding me and watching this. James is laughing like it's the funniest thing in the world to him, and right now, it is to me too.
Until the door slams open and as always, my night is ruined.
"Tim is going to kick your ass."
He keeps moving and I can't stand straight. He's laughing at me and pulling me out of the house. I don't put up much of a fight because the party is over anyway. In the morning, I'll be so angry with my big brother for dragging me out of a party like a baby. He's only upset because he wasn't invited.
The car is making me sick. Nothing is standing still.
Curly takes me to the Dingo and orders coffee and French fries while I puke in the bathroom. I hear him cackling each time I gag.
I wipe my mouth and splash some water on my face. Black lines run down my cheeks and I do my best to scrub the rest of my make-up off too. The night is over. There's no need for it anymore.
Curly pushes the plate of fries to me. It's half gone but he swears salt food will cure a hangover. He tells me to drink the coffee fast because he's supposed to meet Tim here in ten minutes. I'm not worried about how mad he'll be. By the sounds of things, he has bigger things to worry about than me being at a party.
"Who was that crusty looking geek?" Curly asks, sneaking in another fry.
I shrug and stop eating. Salty food doesn't help. It just makes it worse.
"Didn't look like your type."
And how does he know what my type is?
I don't ask why Curly came to the house. Curly is always looking for fun on Friday nights. I don't ask how he knew I was there because everyone talks in this town and I can't get away with much without one or both of my brothers finding out. Some things they choose to ignore. Other's they confront me about. As the older I get, the more they choose to ignore.
The bell rings at the top of the diner door. "Get in the car. We gotta go."
Tim drives us around for an hour. He's face is stone as he stares straight ahead and nothing else. Curly tries to start up a conversation a few times but Tim's not the mood to talk. He's wearing his old warn out leather jacket, grass stained jeans, and he has a cigarette poking out of one side of his mouth.
After a few minutes of Curly begging to know where we're going, Tim grunts out a, "errand to run."
Curly and I both know what that means. I sink further down into my seat and wish I had gone home with you. At least I would be in my bed asleep right now. It's after two and it's started raining. Everyone's home right now except for the Shepard clan. We're out "running errands" for Tim's stupid gang.
I hate that gang most of the time. It's nothing but trouble. I wish it was more like the Curtis gang where everyone just sat around and played poker, and once in a while, they'd fight but only when it was something worth fighting for. Tim's gang will fight someone for just being fat. They're a gang against fat people if you ask me.
I drift off asleep but soon Curly is shaking me awake. "Me and Tim are gonna run inside real fast. Tim says stay in the car and he means stay in the car. I wouldn't want to mess with him tonight."
I never just stay in the car, but tonight, I don't want to get involved with this. I'm tired and I'm not high or drunk anymore and I just want to go home and sleep this off. Maybe this is my punishment. It'd be one of the worst Tim's shoveled out over the years.
Tim and Curly go inside and I lie down in the backseat. I don't want anyone to come out here and see me and try to start up a conversation.
The driveway is full of cars but inside the house it looks like everyone is asleep. This doesn't look like any kind of party I've been to before or Tim has delivered to.
It takes Curly and Tim forty-five minutes before they come back. I sleep for most of the time but Tim instructs Curly to wake me up once they get back. This is my punishment. He's forcing me to stay awake and endure this hangover.
On the next stop Tim hands Curly a brown paper bag with stains on the bottom. "Don't do anything stupid. If they don't pay you the full amount, tell them to come out here and take it up with me."
"Why aren't you coming in?"
"Angie and I got to talk."
Curly sticks his tongue out at me as he leaves, knowing full well I'm about to get an ear full. I hope whoever is in that house knocks the shit out of him.
Tim turns around in his seat and glares at me. "Sit up."
I don't. I don't see anything wrong with lying down while he yells at me. He just wants things done his way.
He smacks the back of my leg, not hard enough to hurt, but it's a warning that he's ready to kick the shit out of me if I fight anymore. "Sit up. I ain't gonna yell. Just listen."
I roll my eyes and do what he says. Curly's right tonight is not the night to mess with Tim.
"I'm going to drop Curly back off at his car after this. I've got to make one more stop and then I'll take you home."
I arch an eyebrow. I don't understand why I can't go back home with Curly. Maybe it's because Tim wants to carry out this punishment of not letting me sleep.
"David's pissed at you," he says lightly. "If that's why you're wonder why I'm not dragging your ass home any time soon. One of your boyfriends came to the house looking for you. Guy with black greasy hair and dark skin. He woke David up."
That doesn't surprise me. David is always mad at one of us about something. Usually he doesn't act on his anger unless it's something really bad. He's too drunk and fat to catch us, so most of the time we run and he gives up. Waking David up from his sleep is the number one rule you don't want to break in our house. As if it's my fault George is stupid enough to do it.
Why was he even over? We haven't spoken since they found Grace.
The only other time Tim has hid me from David when he was so mad was when I was seven. It was soon after Ma got married to the bum and he was starting to assert himself as our "dad." He'd punished me a few times before they got married and a few after, but one night, I got fed up with it. So I went around the house and collected everything he could possibly use to hit me with: belts, rulers, hairbrushes, slippers, anything I could find.
Let's just say David wasn't too happy when he came home from work with his face beat red because his pants fell down in front of all his coworkers because he failed to find a belt that morning.
Tim turns back around in his seat, looking at me through the mirror. "You look like shit. You keep taking that trippy shit and you're going to go bald. It happens. I heard it on the news."
It's not true.
"Seriously," he says sternly. "Cut that shit out. It ain't good for you."
What would he know? Tim's never touched anything like that before. He rarely uses his own drugs except for his weed.
"What's taking Curly so fucking long?"
I rest my head against the window, hoping I can sneak in a quick nap before Tim notices me.
Suddenly, someone is shaking me awake again, this time it's Tim. "Hey. I got to do this run."
I rub my eyes and fully sit up. It takes me a second to realize that I was asleep. Curly isn't here anymore and we're across the street from an apartment building on the other side of town. The dashboard flashes four thirty and my head hurts.
Tim slams my door shut. "Stay in the car."
My brain is beating against my skull. I message my temples and shut my eyes for a second. I could sleep for days, but I know Tim will never let me do that. Sometimes I swear I hate him, and I wish one day on one of these errands, someone will give him what's been coming to him.
I don't have to wait long. The sound of an engine reeving causes my eyes to shoot open and look at Tim crossing the street, a black El Dorado coming his way.
And boom.
It happens.
My blood turns icy in my veins and my stomach drops to my knees.
My eyes grow wide. I've found it. I've found my strength to scream. "Tim!"
A constellation of tears on your lashes. Burn everything you love, then burn the ashes. In the end everything collides. My childhood spat back out the monster that you see. My songs know what you did in the dark. So light 'em up, up, up. Light 'em up, up, up. Light 'em up, up, up. I'm on fire.
A/N: If you read the summary "I stopped talking...But of course they wouldn't leave me alone" then you know that eventually Angela would talk ;) Thank you so much for reading and please leave your thoughts in a review!