Saving Dallas Winston//// A Dallas Winston Story

14: Trust Me, We Are Not Alike

Everyone's addicted to something. For some it's toxic relationships or bad friends. Maybe it's fentanyl. Or cocaine. Smoking is addictive, but not as addictive as weed. Some people like molly too. But for me, it's cutting. God, cutting. I would expose the fact that I cut, if that meant I could cut. There's something about the way the blood pools on the cut before running down my leg. The way the pain just melts away my mental pain. The way it gives me sweet, sweet, control over my emotions. Control, now that is addicting. When you don't have control it's the one thing you crave most. It's like a withdrawal of some sort, when you're not in control. I would give everything for control, to cut, to smoke weed, to never be hurt again. If you tasted it, control, you would too.

"Y/N! It's almost time to meet Dally!" Pony called for me from the living room.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit." I cursed to myself, quickly, and painfully, pulling up my pants causing the blood to smear. "Just a second!" I pulled on my beaten down combat boots and ran out the door. I stopped in the hallway and clutched my thighs seeing blood on my hand.

Fuck.

The blood had bled through my jeans and was gonna be noticeable, but I had no time now. I untucked my shirt, it being long enough to cover the stains of the, still seeping through, blood. Now walking, I made my way to the front door where Pony was. He opened the door before calling to Darry that we'd be back later that night. Just like that, we were off.

As we passed the lot, we saw a young, tan boy with black greased hair. He had a scar on his cheek and a cigarette in his hand. Johnny.

"Hey Johnny, you ready to meet Dally?" I asked the dark haired boy. He nodded and hopped from the old car seat, walking with us. I noticed a fresh bruise on his cheek, that must be why he was at the lot. "Your parents beating on you again, Johnnycakes?"

"Yeah... but I think I like it better when he's hittin' on me. At least he knows I'm there." I shook my head.

"Johnny, no kid should have to go through that or have a mind set like that."  I said sternly.

"Well, what about your mindset with Mark?" Johnny asked me gently.

"Mark is... a different story. He's just a skeleton in my closet now. Well more specifically, a body in the ground, but it's all the same to me." I shrugged.

"We're alike, Y/N." Johnny spoke quietly. I quickly turned to him and put myself in front of him.

"No, Johnny." I spoke sternly. "We are nothing alike. I don't want you to be like me. I don't want you to feel the things I have, or experience them. Johnny, I-" I took a deep breath, "I don't want you to end up like me. Trust me, we are not alike." Johnny got quiet after that, thinking on what I had said.

Johnny began thinking on what you had said. It made him upset that you were so determined to keep him from becoming like you. The boy thought you reminded him of Dallas. He looked up to the both of you, and neither wanted him to be like them. But he wanted to be like you and Dallas. He thought highly of you, he thought you were tough. Johnny who was still an innocent, had no idea about the pain you and Dally really had on the inside. He couldn't see through the tough exterior.

"Hey Dally." Pony spoke. We had come up on Dallas lighting a cigarette on the corner of the block. "You ready to go?"

"Yeah, man. Let's get out of here." he lit his cigarette and blew smoke out of his mouth. As we began walking he passed me the cigarette and I took a long drag from it before blowing the smoke back out.

We ended up at some convenient stores and Dallas told Johnny and Ponyboy to go distract the cashier. They distracted while me and Dally ended up shoving packets of gum and bottles of beer and coke into our pockets. I was stealing a new switch when Dallas grabbed me by the hips and turned me around. His body was pressed into mine and I felt his body heat. I felt the switch being taken from my hand as he pressed me to the shelves behind me.