Painful Inertia || The Outsiders

Chapter 1: Just

Why would I go outside if there isn't anything for me to gain? My name is Ponyboy Jones. Nobody in the town knows who Ponyboy Jones is, and I don't care enough to do something about it.
I mean I'm perfectly fine laying in bed, doing nothing. Getting up is such a pain, thinking is such a pain, moving is such a pain. Life feels like it's just there to give me pain.
I like going outside though. I like the sunsets, the smell of the air, and the trees. I want to go outside, but for some reason it feels so far away. The door, the escape to this house seems to move away from me. Why can't I leave..?

As I lay in bed, trapped in my own thoughts, the desire to go outside grew stronger with each passing moment. The walls of my room felt like they were closing in on me, suffocating me in their familiarity. I longed for the freedom that awaited beyond the confines of my home.

"Ponyboy, Get your ass down here!" My mom yelled. What did she want now..? I groaned, reluctantly pulling myself out of bed and shuffling downstairs to see what my mother wanted. My limbs felt like weights, weighing me down to earth. As if gravity wasn't enough.

As I descended the staircase, swaying occasionally, the smell of bacon and eggs wafted through the air, making my stomach growl in response.
Maybe there was something to gain from leaving my room after all. As I glanced at my moms form I bit back a frown, life was unfair. Everything good that happened, something bad would eventually happen. The universe has to even out somehow.

My mom looked up from the stove, a knowing smile on her face that would slowly turn to anger when she saw me.
"Why don't you go outside instead of being cooped up in here all day? You need to stop moping around." She prolonged, plating the bacon. "Why can't you be like a normal kid? You're such an outcast don't you have any friends? You know, when I was a kid I was never this miserable."

I rolled my eyes at my mom's tirade, her words were like venom just spewing out of her mouth that never seemed to shut up. Maybe that's why Dad ignores her, I wouldn't want a bitch as my wife either.

I knew she meant well, but wasn't it her fault for me moving again? Every time I make friends we seem to move. It's weird, It's like she doesn't even want me to make friends.

I sighed and pushed my hair out of my eyes, trying to mask the irritation bubbling beneath the surface. My hair was long, and I was proud of that. I know its pretty weird for boys to have longer than average hair, but I think it kept my individuality. My mom didn't care, and neither did my Dad, but when did he ever care?

I grabbed a piece of bacon off the pan and popped it into my mouth, relishing the crispy, salty taste. Ignoring my mom's continued rambling, I glanced out the window and noticed the sun shining brightly in the clear blue sky.

What's the point of going outside if all I'm going to face is judgment and ridicule? But a small voice in the back of my mind urged me to step out, to breathe in the fresh air and feel the warmth of the sun on my skin.

I quickly shut the voice out and grabbed my plate of food which only consisted of pancakes and bacon and went back upstairs.

"Maybe she was right. All I've been doing is rotting in my bed for 2 weeks.." I devoured the pancakes and bacon, the savory taste fueling my resolve to finally step out of the suffocating walls of my home.

"Ponyboy please go outside for the love of fucking God i'm tired of having an outcast son!" She finally finished. She sounded so exhausted, but I know it's probably my fault.

Ignoring my mother's harsh words, I made up my mind. I couldn't keep hiding away from the world, letting fear and doubt consume me. I needed to break free from this suffocating cycle of self-pity and take a step outside, no matter how daunting it seemed.

"Ponyboy, take a shower before going out, you smell like a pig!"

Was she ever finished?

After finishing my breakfast, I trudged up the stairs to my room, each step heavier than the last. My mom's words echoed in my mind, a constant reminder of her disapproval and disappointment.

As I stood in front of the mirror, I took in my reflection - unkempt hair, dark circles under my eyes, and a defeated expression staring back at me. Maybe she was right. Maybe I did need to make an effort to change.

I turned on the shower, letting the hot water wash away the physical and emotional grime that clung to me. The steam filled the bathroom, cocooning me in a hazy warmth that somehow eased my racing thoughts.

Shower always cleanses everything, but it felt like something was missing from that everytime I took one. I could never be fully cleaned, my thoughts and feelings were dirty. Dirty like an alleyway with trash and beer bottles stacked up in the corner.

Sometimes I wish I was just a thoughtless doll.

I closed my eyes reveling in the warm water as it hit my skin. The water flowed from my head, dripping off my fingertips. I wrap my arms around my body, finding a small comfort in it.

I sighed, opening my eyes and sitting down on the tub floor. I was exhausted. Even if I had just laid down for hours, days even, it's like I could never shake this feeling of exhaust.

I was tired, sore, angry, and everything in between. In the shower, though, it's like all that didnt even matter. In short, it was relaxing. It felt like laying down on the floor and letting the sun rays hit your body.

Except, I don't remember what that feels like. I used to relate those two things together. I know I remember that, but I've stayed in this house for too long to even remember what it feels like.

I sat there, feeling worse than I had ever been. I was useless to society. I was useless to everything. Everything would be fine if I wasn't here. Hell! I'm technically not. My neighbors probably don't even know who I am.

Nobody except my school and classmates know I exist. Scratch that, only my school. I'm barely even in that hell-hole, nobody knows who I am.

The only reason people know I exist is because of the empty seat in their classroom that almost never gets filled.

"Ponyboy get your ass out of there! What makes you think your father wants to spend that much money on you?" My mom yelled as her fists banged on the door. Any harder and she would've punched a hole in it.

I've seen her do it once. It was when I was younger, Dad left her with me as a toddler. She got mad because my dad wouldn't help her with me. She screamed and yelled around the house in anger until she was so riled up there was a hole in the wall before I could process it.

I was terrified then, terrified that it would be me next. She just glanced at me, a hard glare on her face before she scoffed and left for a smoke break. That day I stared down that hole, my eyes scanning every detail.

I felt frozen in time as if nothing was really happening. I don't know why I was so scared. I don't know why it felt like I couldn't move. And I definitely don't know why I felt trapped in the house I lived in.

My mom continues banging on the door, this time more aggressively. I was testing her patience. I quickly turned the handle for the shower, shutting off the water. The banging stopped, but I could hear her hard angry panting outside the door.
As I grabbed my towel and stepped out of the shower, I could only get ready for the ticking bomb that my mom is. I took a deep breath in and my hand ghosted the door knob. Her pants could be heard loud and slightly muffled.

I finally grasped the knob and turned in, pulling the door back. As I blinked to ask her what was wrong, a harsh pull snapped me back to reality. My moms hand pulled me by my ear. The pain made me grit my teeth. She pulled my face to her mouth, speaking in a low voice. "If you test my patience again, I'll make sure you're sleeping outside."

When she finished her mutter she let go of my face waving me off. I stood there frozen, my hand covering the ear that was pulled. Why?

Why was this so unfamiliar to me? I should've expected it, but it feels like the first time she had ever hit me. Just standing there, shocked and not being able to form any sentences.