The Outsiders Stuff!

Insecure (Oneshot)

Johnny's POV.
___

As I was turning off the faucet in the Curtis' bathroom, and grabbing for the towel to wipe my hands dry, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I didn't look too often since I never really liked what I saw.

My skin was too tan compared to everyone else's, my eyes were so damn brown that they were almost black, and I had that stupid dumb scar from getting jumped. My nose looked weird to me and I could never smile correctly. I didn't look handsome; I was pretty much the opposite. I hated seeing that stupid ugly face look back at me. It just reminded me of how dumb and pathetic I was.

As I was nitpicking every single little flaw that I saw in that reflective piece of glass on the wall, I heard a knock on the door followed by a voice.

"Johnny? You good in there? It's been a while, dude." I recognized the voice as Ponyboy's. I snapped out of looking in the mirror, but my mind still felt grey and heavy with self-hatred.

"Oh, uh, yeah, man. Just gimme a sec."

"Okay." I heard Ponyboy's steps get quieter and quieter as he walked away from the door. I opened it and stepped out after a few seconds, trying to keep the dull feeling in my head and chest inside.

Everyone was over today for one reason or another. Steve wanted to hang with Soda, Two-Bit wanted to watch Mickey Mouse, and Dally was just bored. Ponyboy, Soda, and Darry were obviously there too 'cause they lived there. They were just talking about some random stuff. I was too busy zoning out to pay attention.

I only snapped out of my spiral of thoughts when Dally nudged me. He didn't say anything, though. Just an elbow to the side. I don't know why he did that.

The guys kept talking about girls and random stuff. It was just light topics. It's weird how happy things sound different when you're in a depressing mindset. I just couldn't really get into it, the conversation. My mind was somewhere else.

Eventually, I got sick of it and said I was going home. I knew damn well that it was an excuse, and I'm pretty sure everyone else knew too. I mean, why would I willingly go home? It sucks there. I had a bruise from my dad hitting me with an empty beer bottle on my side at the time, for example.

They let me go, though, which I was kind of glad about. I went to the lot and found the spot that I usually slept in when I didn't want to go home. It was cold and the dirt was hard, but that's all I felt like I deserved.

I dozed off after a while. My sleep was interrupted halfway through due to a nightmare, though. It was of what went down at home, like usual. I sat up and sighed, pulling my jean jacket closer to myself to try and keep warm.

I hated pretty much everything at that moment. I hated my parents. I hated how cold it was. I hated living like that. I didn't want to die, though. I just wished I never existed. It'd be better if I never existed.

I didn't notice that I was crying a bit until I felt a hand shaking my shoulder and the concerned voice of Soda.

"Hey, Johnny. Why're you cryin'? What happened?" I wiped my face off with the denim sleeve of my jacket and looked up into Soda's brown eyes. They were a lighter shade than mine. One that was actually pretty. His looked like milk chocolate while mine looked like really dirty water.

"Oh, um, n-nothin'."

"Bullcrap." Soda kneeled down next to me. I hated how empathetic that boy was. Why couldn't he just not know that I was even more broken than the glass bottles that some greasers use as weapons inside?

"What happened, Johnny? I ain't gonna judge ya. I just wanna know what's wrong. The last time you cried was when you got jumped, man." My hand subconsciously went up to that scar on the left side of my face. I got it from that incident. The Soc was wearing like 3 or so rings, and it cut me up real bad. Boy howdy did that hurt.

"Nothin'. Just a bad dream, that's all." Technically that wasn't a lie. I did have a not-so-pleasant dream which caused me to awaken. Too bad Soda saw through it.

The next thing I knew I was sobbing into Soda's shoulder. He had pulled me into a hug and I couldn't help but break down. I needed a hug. I needed it more than I realized.

I had to talk in between involuntary sharp inhales because I was crying that hard. I vented to him about how I hated how my dad would hit me and how my mom would yell at me whenever she's mad, even if I didn't even do anything. I told him about how I hated how I looked and how pathetic I was. I explained how I felt stupid and pathetic for even breaking down and telling him all this.

He said some things to console me then took me back inside his house. Everyone was still there for some reason, and they instantly noticed my tearstained face. Even Dallas Winston looked like he felt something similar to empathy. I must've been real broken for him to express that.

Darry went over to me and hugged me. One person hugging me went to 6. They all told me things to try and make me feel better.

"You're not useless, Johnnycake."

"You're a sweet kid, man."

"Don't think like that. You're amazing."

"Your brain is stupid. You're fricking awesome, dude."

They said things along those lines until a cracked a smile. I felt appreciated. I felt loved. I felt wanted. And for the first time in a long while, I felt okay.

___
1014 words