Chapter 3: Detailed Ceiling Cracks

Down The Rabbit Hole

Disclaimer: Do I look like I own The Outsiders? The real owner of The Outsiders is the best author ever, S.E. Hinton. I also do not make a profit from the stories that I write on this site.

A/N: Please tell me what you think! Criticism is welcome, but no flames please. Flames killed Johnny. Suggestions are always welcome, no matter what they may be. Thank you!

Sodapop ~Fall, 1965~

Dinner was filed with uncomfortable silent. You could have cut the tension in the air with a switchblade. I couldn't think of anything to say to ease the atmosphere.

"Great dinner, Darry," I muttered finally.

'Nice one, Sodapop,' I thought sarcastically.

"What's wrong, Sodapop? You've been silent all night. You feelin' alright over here?" Darry asked me, concern lacing his deep, husky voice. I shrugged noncommittally.

"I'm just a little tired. I think I'll probably turn in early," I responded warily, trying to ease Darry's worries. He frowned, but nodded just the same. I set my plate in the sink and began washing it with meticulous speculation. Ponyboy came up behind me to help me, scraping off his own plate into the sink. We did the dishes in mutual, uncomfortable silence.

"What's really botherin' you? You use to always talk to me," genuine hurt clouded my little brother's young, worried features. But innocent was how I wanted him to say, even though I knew they it was so wrong to hide it from him.

"One day you'll understand, Ponyboy," was all I had to say. I slipped out of the room inconspicuously and laid in bed, at staring at the white ceiling cracks.

"Why me?" I muttered to no one in particular, my eyes filling up with tears unexpectedly. I buried my face into my pillow and sobbed.

OoOoOoO

I took a shuddering deep breath and began writing in my signature chicken scratch. It was chicken and I knew it, but I wrote out the note anyway. It took me multiple tomes before I completed one that I actually kind of liked.

Dear Ponyboy and Darry,

I couldn't tell you in person so I desided write this letter. I got my notice in the mail with Sandy's unopened letter last week. By time you read this I will already be in Oklahoma City. I didn't have the heart to tell you guys this. I'm sorry. Take care for me and I'll be back soon, okay? Don't let Steve sign up either. Sorry again. I love you guys a lots. Take care.

- Sodapop Patrick Curtis

I had the letter all written up, and then I crumpled it up and threw it at the wall angrily. I couldn't do that to my brothers. They deserved to know. They deserved to hear it from me in person.

I rushed out the door for work, still reeling.

Word Count: 510 words

Bunnies to y'all,

~Alee XxX