The outsiders

Illusions

Sodapop Patrick Curtis died at 8:27 the next morning with me and the gang by his side. Darry, Steve and Ponyboy was the most affected. It was almost like they couldn't cope. As for the rest of the gang, they spent most of their days in the awkward silence that filled our house. And as for me, I can honestly say I don't know how to live in a world without Sodapop Curtis. Despite all the reassuring smiles and hugs I have given over the pass few days I was far from fine. Even though I knew he was dead, that night I imagined him in my room.
"I must be nuts." I mutter softly to myself.
He says nothing as I look him over. He looks almost the exact same, still in a red and white plaid shirt and dark blue jeans and boots, the only difference was that his clothes had a little mud on them. I thought little of this however, I was strongly convinced that this was all a figment of my imagination.

Tears streamed wildly down my cheeks as the sorrow and agony I had hidden in front of the gang began to surface. I collapsed on the bed and began to sob, he wrapped his strong arms around me and held me tightly to his chest. He was just as strong and comforting as in reality. In just a little while of him holding me and gently rocking me back and forth my eyes got almost impossible to keep open. I battle fiercely with my sleep ridden self and lost quickly and absolutely. I muttered a faint "I love you. " and almost was too far gone to hear the reply.

"I love you too, princess. Don't worry, I'll be home soon." He whispers into my ear as he gently stroking my hair.
I feel his lips gently caress my forehead before he kissed me softly. I almost wished I never had to wake up.