Abby (long version)

F I V E

I was pretty sick the next couple weeks, and the weeks following weren't exactly easy. I filled two more notebooks with my writing. I was never done with my autobiography-life just kept happening. I even learned origami.

"What's with all the paper flowers popping up all over the house?" Darry had said one day, smiling at the collection he had in his hands.

"They're optimistic. Flowers seem happy to me, you know?" I had replied.

Despite my happy attitude, life wasn't always what I wanted. Bad things happen to good people. Sometimes it feels unfair, but that's life, and there's not much you can do about it.

We were walking home from the DX one day, and it was starting to get cold and dark out. We were finishing off our Cokes and kicking rocks while we walked down by the vacant lot. Steve suddenly stopped in his tracks and picked up a jacket.

"Looks like Johnny forgot his jacket," he said. He would swing by Johnny's place on the way home and give it to him. His blue-jeans jacket was the only one he had. But he stopped again, examining the collar. There was a rusty colored stain on it, the same as on the ground.

I stared at it wide-eyed in disbelief. We all looked up and saw him in the lot, motionless. Even I was running, despite the weak feeling and pain that had become constant in my legs. Tears started to leak from my eyes. No, he can't be dead. He just can't be dead, I thought in agony.

Soda got to Johnny first, and cradled him, stroking his black hair. "Johnny? Hey, Johnnycake," he pleaded, shaking slightly.

"Soda?" he asked weakly.

"Yeah, it's me. Don't talk. You're gonna be okay."

I knelt on the cold grass beside him and took Johnny's hand. "Johnnycake, you'll be alright. I'm right here," I whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to his swollen cheek.

Johnny sobbed out his story, telling us about a blue Mustang and a Soc with rings. The anger and anxiety were too much, and the ground rushed up to meet me.

I was awake off and on the whole night, and when I was actually asleep, it was restless and light. I heard things I shouldn't have, things that made me sick to my stomach with worry. I sobbed into my pillow several times that night until I fell asleep, only to awake an hour or two later.

I woke up before the sun the next morning. I laid in bed, my body weak and aching, as it always did. I had no motivation to get up, especially after what had happened the night before, so I just laid in bed. Events from the previous day and night flooded my mind. One phrase in particular wouldn't leave. I remembered when Soda had said: "Poor Johnnycake should never have to be hurt again."

I made up my mind in a split-second. I'd leave before I slipped up and said "I love you" to Johnny. I didn't want to hurt him more than I already had to. I threw a change of clothes, a jacket, and a few snacks in my backpack and left.

I looked back at the Curtis house one more time. I thought of the guys I considered brothers. I thought about my friends. I thought about Johnny. I turned away and started walking before I let myself cry. I silently wished for Johnny to find love again. I willed my weak and aching legs to carry me.

The dawn was coming, the sun about ready to peak over the horizon. Despite the crisp spring air, I kept walking. I shoved my hands into the pockets of my jacket to keep them warm. Even though there was a thin line of light in the sky, I relied on the glow of the streetlights to find my way. There were very few cars out, so I looked up every time one drove by.

When I passed the city boundaries, I knew there was no going back. I was walking slowly, my weak legs slowing me down, but I had made it out of Tulsa. I figured I had enough time to get away.