You're Dead To Me || ᴛʜᴇ ᴏᴜᴛꜱɪᴅᴇʀꜱ

Overlooked

[AUTHOR's NOTE: this chapter introduces yet another OC based off Truman Burbank (Malkovich Burbank) so yh js incase u get confused lol this is like a twisted crossover :3]
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Ponyboy Curtis...

I'm being toured around the facility. I've seen brutal people, this place is like all my bad memories of those brutal moments bunched up into one area.

Soda and Darry walk along with me as the receptionist walks us down the hall. I look up at Soda and say, "I don't like this. I wanna go home." He doesn't say anything, he just gazes down at me with his sad, movie-star, gloomy eyes. It scares me.

I glance at Darry and his expression remains blank. "I wanna go home. Darrel," my breathing is unsteady, "I don't wanna be here anymore!"

Darry finally looks down at me, his eyes stone cold. "I wanna leave, let's leave!" I tell him, heading toward the only exit I see at the end of the hall, but the door is locked.

Darry and Soda don't follow along. I realize what's really going on. That's when the blood drains from my face.

This isn't just a look around. I'm gonna be staying here.

Neither Darry, nor Soda informed me of it as we were on our way here. Honestly, if they had told me, I would've run out in the middle of the highway, maybe jump off a cliff or dive straight into traffic. I didn't wanna come here, I never did. I just came so they would stop bugging me about it.

I want out.

That first night I spent there might've been one of the worst nights in my life. I got kicked around and whatnot since I was the new guy.

Fortunately, I got to know people who were more civilized. They were greasers, too. We stuck together, like an alliance. We'd protect each other, keep our guards raised high so we wouldn't get hurt. Fights break out often, I can appreciate a good fight. But I prefer to not get my butt kicked.

I learned that the hard way.

I guess one night I got a little too cocky as a rumble was brewing, I was the one who threw the first punch. It didn't go so well. I almost had to get stitches, this guy bit my wrist so hard that his sharp fangs pierced through my flesh. I'm just glad I didn't go down without a fight. I mean, I should probably be glad I'm even still alive. I've been trying my best to act and look as happy as I can be so I can get out.

There are nights when they allow visitors, they allow you to see your family but only for a brief moment. Those are my favorite nights. Although I know I could never forgive Sodapop or Darry for this, I still run into their arms when I see them.

After about 3 weeks, I'm finally able to get out.
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Sodapop Curtis...

I begin to regret it all since Ponyboy has gone nonverbal. As if I hadn't been dreading to put Ponyboy in there. It's like he's mute now, the Ponyboy I remember would talk to me all the time.

The Ponyboy I know is a sweet, charismatic, smart boy. It's like the charm has been drained out.

Nowadays I just wonder how I could ever make it up to him. I mean, what happened was bad. It went from bad to worse. I noticed the scar on Pony's wrist, teeth marks engraved into his skin.

I keep telling myself that it'd all be worth it, but deep down, I don't think so. I think I'm just telling myself that so I'd feel less guilty. I try to convince Ponyboy to come with us to the drive-in movies, but due to the trauma of what happened last time, I don't think he'll be going anytime soon.

But if it means anything at all, Darry stopped yelling at Ponyboy for every little thing he does wrong.

Darry and I had a talk, we were in the car after dropping Ponyboy off at the facility.
Silence pondered before he spoke up, "I didn't know it was that bad." Darry drags his palm along his face, sinking into his sorrows.