The Winston sister

38

Skye's POV

The cool night air felt good on my face.  The whiskey made warm.  I stumbled down the street, my brother at my side.  He lit a smoke and offered me one.  He had to light it for me cause I was too drunk to get it myself. 

After I took a few drags, I stared down Two-Bit, "why you mad, Bruh?"

"Really Skye?" He glared at me, "you're wasted!"

"You get wasted," I responded as clearly as I could.

"I'm an adult."

I busted out laughing, "yeah, you're an adult and I'm fuckin' Elvis Presley."

"Dammit, Skye!  I'm being serious!  I don't want you to throw your life away!"

I leaned up against a tree, "Keith, I'm a greaser...I'll either get jailed and go to a reform
school or get knocked up by the time I'm 16," I slurred my words together.

My brother looked sad...that doesn't usually happen, "Skye, just cause your a greaser doesn't mean you have to fall into the stereotype. Look at Ponyboy, that kid is going somewhere. Skye, you're a smart kid. I've seen the grades you bring home, but you're gonna throw your life away if you keep going down this path." Two-Bit lit another smoke, "I just don't want ya to end up like me or Dally."

I stared at him. Two must be a little soused as well. He doesn't usually have a serious conversation unless he's buzzed. I actually stared to feel a little bad, "I'm sorry."

"Skye," he sighed, "you're always sorry." He headed into the house.

I sank to the ground. I disappointed everyone again. Hell, Dally said Brooke and me couldn't even hang out anymore. That hurt more than it should, way to go, Skye. You're the reason everyone's so fucking pissed off all the time.

I sat there for a little longer before I got chilly. I headed inside. Two-Bit was in his room. He was on the phone with somebody. I didn't care enough to listen in. I decided to take a shower, the whiskey was starting to wear off and I could feel the headache coming on.

The hot water poured over me, turning my skin red. I thought back to the days when my dad and uncle were living with us. I shuddered as I remembered some of the things he did to me. He used to tell me that I deserved it. I was a tease, a whore, and was worthless. He told me if I ever told anyone he would kill me.

Some days. I wish he had.