𝐆𝐎-𝐆𝐎 | 𝐬.𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐬

𝟎𝟏𝟎. 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐂𝐚𝐝𝐞

Chapter 10

Johnny Cade

People always told her the journey was the best part of any adventure. And what a total load of bullshit that was.

It was like a cold slap to the face, or a bucket dumped on your head that was filled with reality. Because when she ran out the large front door that evening, this wasn't what she expected to be doing at eleven o'clock at night. Helping a boy that she didn't know (a Greaser no less) to someone's house she had only seen a handful of times under circumstances she didn't understand and had no idea what to do next.

Mitsy wanted to do nothing more than to release the body of the boy wrapped around her shoulders and go home to the comfort of her bed. But unfortunately, she couldn't do either of those.

With her dress sticking to her ankles as Johnny's blood dried against her pale skin. And the heavyweight of his body slumped against her own; the two teens continued on their trek to the house that felt over a mile away. But in reality, it was only two blocks away.

She carefully steadied the younger boy against her tired figure, one hand wrapped securely around his bloodied waist and the other holding the arm that rested on her shoulders.

Why did she decide to help this kid again? She figured this is what she got for trying to be a nice person for once in her life.

Their progress was slow, each step accompanied by a pained wince and a quiet cry. Mitsy took cautious strides as the house came closer with every footfall as the sound of their shuffling footsteps echoing through the quiet streets.

"We're almost there, Johnny." She affirmed with a quivering breath. Her flats clicking against the uneven pavement with the boy hanging on her side hunched over in agony as he made staggering steps in his old, blood covered converse shoes.

His disarrayed hair clung to his forehead, dampened by sweat from the exertion of his weakening limbs. Blood seeped through the makeshift bandage on his leg (made from the hem of Mitsy's nightgown) that now had darkened from its feathery white as a result. His tanned complexion had turned an unsettling shade of sickly grey, and his gaze held tears of horrible pain that he had failed to hold behind the glassy shield of his eyes. With each shallow breath, he grunted with a staggering rise and fall of his chest.

Thankfully, they eventually reached the familiar quaint house that sat on the corner of the street. Johnny's sigh of relief was palpable, and Mitsy led him to the front porch.

Wrapping her knuckles against the door the girl adjusted his weight against her, erupting a groan from the brunette as he clutched his side tightly with his free hand.

The two of them seemed to wait, and wait as the door never opened. They began to lose hope, what if they were asleep and didn't hear them? And although Johnny knew the door was always unlocked, Mitsy did not. So they unsteadily stood on the wooden planks of the porch.

But suddenly, it flew open and the towering figure of Darry Curtis appeared with wet hair and confusion written all over his face.

The girl let out a breath she never knew she was holding, they had help.

"Good evening, Miss?" He furrowed his brows at the sight of her.

"Hi," She rushed, "I found him in the lot and he said he knew you so I brought him here." She rambled, following in after the Greaser as Darry laid him down on the couch, catching the attention of the other people in the home.