You Don't Know What It's Like Being Me.

The Funeral

When I stepped out into the bright sunlight from the darkness of the funeral home, I had only two things on my mind: Sodapop and Ponyboy.

The dread I felt knowing all the responsibility was being put on me to keep the family together was overwhelming. And I already felt sick to my stomach thinking about it. I got into the driver seat of my truck and Soda got into the passenger seat, Pony following into the back. Neither of them said anything as I started the car, the only sounds were the occasional sniffing or the quiet sobs that came from Ponyboy. My heart ached at the sound. But I didn't say a word.

The drive home felt like hours even though it was only thirty minutes, we got out of the car and entered our now quiet house. No "I was so worried!" from mom and "Where have you been?" From dad.
Silence.

I knew in that moment I'd have to take that role, be the one who had to worry all day and night about my brothers not being thrown in a boys home. I'd be the one asking where they've been, saying how worried I was. It was quite the change, but I have no other choice.

None of us were feeling hungry so I told them to get some sleep. We'd talk about it in the morning. I know the gang will probably give us some space for a while to work this all out, but they'll be there for us when we need them. I'm sure of it.

Soda and Ponyboy go into their room, the door stays cracked open slightly, I go into my room, laying in my bed and pulling the covers over me. I lay on my side as I stare towards the wall for some time. Boring myself into sleep.

I wake up bright and early, leaving my room and going into the kitchen to make breakfast. Ponyboy and Sodapop are still asleep in their room, so I wake them up after I made them some eggs and toast.

I softly knock on the door before pushing it open more.
"Pony, Soda, I made breakfast.." I say lightly. Sodapop sat up in his bed, which was across the room from Ponyboy's, and stared blankly at the ground for a bit. Then he softly said,
"Alright.." he looked over at Ponyboy "I'll wake 'em up."
I give a nod and went back into the kitchen. The usual smile on Sodas face was nowhere to be seen.

We all sat at the table. It being only us three made it so much more empty. I put their plates in the spots they always sat in for them. We ate in silence but Pony didn't touch his food much, I don't think he even took more than four bites of his eggs. He just sat there for most of the time staring off into space. It hurt to see him that way, instead of him making little snarky comments to me and messing with Soda, he was silent. Something told me he would be like this for a while.

Once we were finished we cleared our plates and left them in the sink. Soda decided that he'll clean them. Pony and I were in the living room, the TV on whatever channel there was. But the volume was turned almost all the way down. I was afraid any loud noises would break Ponyboy. He looked like he could bawl any moment, too.

Once soda was finished cleaning the dishes he came into the living room with us, sitting next to Ponyboy, placing an arm carefully on his back.

"..D'you guys wanna talk 'bout it.?" I asked. I dreaded the conversation but it needed to happen.
Sodapop looked over at Ponyboy, did he even hear me?
Soda shook Ponyboy's shoulder lightly. Pony just looked at him, his eyes empty.
"You wanna talk 'bout it.?" Soda's voice all quiet.
Pony responding with a simple shake of his head. Would he ever want to talk about it?

Soda looked at me and gave a tired looking smile, his eyes too sad to make it genuine. "We'll talk 'bout it some other time.. when we're all ready."
I nod my head, knowing that would be in a long time. Maybe we'll never be the same again.

We sat there in silence watching the TV. It almost seemed as if all we needed in that moment was each other. We were all we had. I look at my brothers, they were cuddled close to one another. I couldn't help but feel a ping of jealousy. Them being so close is like teasing me on how much Ponyboy thinks I hate him. Even though I don't.

Maybe one day he'll realize that.