darlin' || the outsiders

15

we sat through the credits, that's how on edge we were. we were all physically and mentally exhausted, and most of us just wanted to sleep. i was holding the empty pop cup in my hand, and was staring into the white, translucent lid. there was still some ice cubes in the bottom of the red cup.

"come on, dally." johnny put his hand on my shoulder, causing me to turn to face him. "let's go home.".

i nodded and stood up slowly. when we walked past the trash can i tossed the empty cup in it. we started walking home, and it was like i saw her everywhere. her presence, well more like her ghost, was everywhere. on the sidewalk next to me, the top of the monkey bars, leaning against the fence in the curtis' front yard, in the lot where she would sleep with johnny to keep him warm and give him company, when we'd go to buck's after a long day; it only got worse when we stepped through the door of the curtis house.

i could still see her sitting on the couch or floor with a random assortment of gang members. whether just me, or everyone. i could see her taking care of johnny and providing a laugh when he was hurting. how she would watch mickey mouse with two-bit, or read with pony on quiet nights like this. these are the times where i would break down and cry, but not in front of the gang. especially if someone else was already doing it.

darry loved elsie like a little sister. johnny got the motherly and friendly love he needed in elsie. pony and soda loved elsie like they never loved anyone else. two-bit was so close to elsie, and would've dropped everything to help her. steve and elsie weren't the closest but they could sit and laugh together if they tried. but me, oh god did i love her.

was this what being in love felt like?

••••
elsie lock

when i woke up i was in the back of my dads car. where i was, i don't know. i felt a striking pain in my leg everytime i moved even an inch. i looked down and saw my bleeding leg, there was a bullet wound in it. all i could remember was the gun going off, my leg hurting, and then i blacked out. i whimpered quietly. the night sky was full of stars, and i could see the moon. the only comforting thought was me and the gang were all under that very same moon, no matter how far apart we were. i missed them so much.

i looked up at my dad who had pulled into a motel. i looked up and he got only shooting me a dirty glance. i frowned and slowly watched him go up the front desk, taking a key and just going into his room- leaving me alone in the car. luckily, it was hot outside. in fact, it was quite chilly that night. the wind had picked up anyways. the only thing was, i'd be dead by morning, hot or not, due to lack of oxygen.

i started banging on the window. i had to disregard the pain in my leg for a second as i sat up, the light illuminated from the street lamp, revealing a small hole. there was dried blood, but more began pouring out when i sat up. i was hoping someone would see me and come get me.

i looked around for something heavy to break the glass. i left the gun alone since he had touched the gun and they could finger print it when, or if, the cops find me. i resorted to using my bare hands to break the glass.

i gently pressed my clenched fist against the middle of the window and then pulled back, punching my fist into the glass as hard as i could; leaving it with a whole lot of cracks. i smirked and knew one more good hit would break it, so i pulled back again and hit the cracked glass one more time. the glass had completely shattered.

the front desk lady had looked at me once the glass was first cracked. i waved her over to help me after i had shattered the glass. i was begging for help, my knuckles were bleeding heavily. i no longer knew if my knuckles were bleeding heavier than my leg was.

"what happened?" the lady asked, placing her hands on my arm to help me out of the car window. i sighed once she pulled me out and got me to my feet. she glanced at my leg and gasped. i think she almost screamed to be honest.

"that man, he's my dad." i started. "i ran away because he was abusing me physically and mentally. im from ohio, but i ran away out here. i met the most amazing people, but all good things must come to an end. he found me and when i went to confront him, he shot me and i was out ever since.".

at first, i don't think she believed me. but with the proof i had, the gun, the wound, the fact this man left me in his car to die from lack of oxygen; i think she was forced to believe me.

"please, call 911." was all i said as she helped me to a bench. i sat down and laid my head on her lap. she smelled like oranges, which was nice. orange was my favorite flavor in everything. also, sometimes dallas would drink this orange flavored sparkling alcohol water thing and it would make his breath smell like oranges. it drove me crazy, in a good way.

i shouldn't of walked on my leg, as the pain got even worse and i had to put my leg up on a bunch of yellow phone books. i would whimper from the pain every few minutes as she was on the phone. she also reported the license plate number, which reporters said they had gotten numerous reports for the same plate number. that made me laugh, i knew it was the gang waiting for me to come home. ohio wasnt my home anymore, it never was after mom died. tulsa was my home, but truly, the gang was my home. i felt nothing but relief when with them.

"they're on their way. they're taking you back to tulsa, since it's only a few miles east." she said, rubbing her hand through my hair. i smiled and thanked her, looking up at the tan ceiling above us.

"what is going on?" my dad turned the corner, after seeing his smashed car window; knowing i was out. the look on his face was scarier than any horror movie combined, if looks could kill, i'd be dead right there in this lady's lap. i whimpered and grabbed her arm, knowing i wouldn't be able to defend myself.

luckily, he couldn't do anything as the police rolled up with an ambulance right behind them. there were also a few news reporters on the scene too. it was somewhat chaotic if i'm being honest. i just wanted to be with my gang again- with dallas again.

i tilted my head up and asked what i looked like, the lady was hesitant but pulled a little makeup compartment out of her pocket and showed me what i looked like. there was a scab on my temple and there was blood running down my face. the entire left side of my face was covered in a layer of pure red, and it even trailed into my hair. it had stuck the strands of hair together and stained them red.

i was watching the scene unfold in front of me, they had fingerprinted my dads gun and confirmed it was what shot me. i smiled in relief before feeling my eyes get heavy. paramedics had picked me up and placed me on a stretcher and placed an oxygen mask on me. the news reporter had run up to the front of the motel and was filming everything going on. her voice was fading in and out and i just wished i was home with dallas or pony and johnny.
••••

word count: 1391