The outsiders

Burning

Still where soda is

Soda woke with a start of feeling something cold drip onto his lips and slowly make it's way into his mouth. It was bitter and burned his throat. He looked up to find a bottle of beer being placed forcibly held to his mouth. Soda hated drinking, it made him sick and made him say and do things he wouldn't normally do. He tried hard not to drink it but it felt so good on his dry throat that he ended up chugging the whole thing. He couldn't even remember the last time he had anything to drink, but then again, all of his memories were a little fuzzy right there along with his eye sight. The gray metal bars seemed to move and merge together as more and more alcohol was dumped into his system. He heard a dry and cold cackle like laugh come from behind him. He turned to look and there she was, that horrific girl who had fought with Bree. Even those memories were beginning to blur. He found it hard to recall his brothers and best friends names. He was so confused, the one name that stood out clear was Bree. He knew who that was, he knew that was his love and sanity, the thing that made his life worth living. Suddenly, he felt hands in his pockets and something being ripped out of them. He looked up in horror to find that those were his pictures of Bree. Two jocks held him back as she carelessly looked through them.

"Give them back! They're mine!" Soda yelled, thrashing in the jocks iron grip. Ignoring the pain of the movement.

One of them slapped him hard. Then they proceeded to hold his neck, forcing him to keep his eyes fixed on the scene being created before his eyes. She suddenly threw all of them into the small fire near the door.

"No!" Soda yelled. Thrashing harder, making no progress. They slapped and kicked and beat him till he couldn't breath without pain slicing at his badly beaten body.

He didn't know what time it was now, if it was day or night there was no light in his cage and no windows, he was trapped in perpetual darkness. He wrapped his arms around himself as he suddenly began to feel a horrible sensation in his stomach and head. It was the alcohol, he had seen dally and two bit nursing a hangover not to know that was what it was. He threw up and just laid in the opposite corner, his head pounding and throbbing. He imagined Bree's soft embrace as she lovingly stroked his hair and laid his head on her lap and kissed his forehead. Those pleasant memories were slowly but surely getting lost in a world of everlasting darkness.

Right about when soda had almost went to sleep, in came her. She slapped and kicked him hard to wake him up before dragging him out by his injured arm.

Soda knew better by this point to whimper or even to wince. He knew what was coming. He closed his eyes and tried to imagine some sort of comfort to his mind but found nothing but darkness. He felt his wrists and ankles being strapped to all four bedposts. He closed his eyes and waited for what was about to happen. He felt himself being turned to where he was laying on his side, his back and chest completely vulnerable. There was just a crack and then white hot agony was suddenly present across his back. He screamed and screamed and it just kept happening over and over. The whip would crack, his only warning before the pain. He felt the blood oozing from the gashes along his back and chest. It hurt so horribly. He prayed to whoever was listening if anyone for it to stop.

"She's never coming for you, soda, you might as well get used to me."

No that's not true, he thought frantically, she loves me she will come.

After a while of this, he had no idea who this she was. No idea. A blank expression and an empty mind was what he was left with, and suddenly the voice of an angel whispered in his ear.

"Soda?"