Suicidal Pony (An Outsiders FanFic)

A Freak Acident

Ponyboy's POV
It's been exactly one and a half months since the death of my best friend, Johnny, and my mesa, Dally. To help cope with the sorrow, I wrote The Outsiders, but it didn't help as much as I thought it would. I did get an A+ on it though.
As I look at the gang, or what's left of it, it seems like they don't even realize their friends died. Wait. Scratch that. Their families died. The gang is more that just friends.
Me an' Darry haven't been fighting lately, but last night at dinner...

Everyone was calmly eating, a meatloaf meal with a side of pink mashed potatoes; courtesy of Soda. We usually eat in silence, but this quietness was awkward and bugging me.
After about 3 minutes of silence, I accidentally blurted out, "How'd you already forget about Johnny and Dally?! They were our friends- no our family!"
"Pony..." Soda started slowly.
"No Sodapop." Darry said. "He needs to move on. It's been over 6 weeks! He's been fine every other day, why is he just talking 'bout it now?"
"Because," I said. "I haven't been fine. I've been thinking about them ever since then. I just haven't talked about it."
"Well you need to move on. Their dead and that's final." Darry said starting to raise his voice. "You coped with mom and dad you can live with this."
That ticked me off and I yelled, "I coped with mom and dad cause I was young and didn't know them that well! I've known Johnny all my life and he-" I swallowed back tears. "He was like my brother!"
"You think this was only hard for you?? It was terrible for all of us!! Your just being dramatic." Darry screamed.
"I'm being dramatic????" I screeched enraged. "Your being a little-"
"ENOUGH!!" Soda yelled. "I THOUGHT THIS WAS BEHIND US!!" He stood up. "I'M GOING TO STEVE'S." Then ran out and slam the door.
After a minute of just sitting there me and Darry cleaned the dishes and went to bed, knowing Soda wouldn't lie about going to Steve's.

And that's why I'm sitting in my room crying. All I did was ask a question and, of course, Darry turned it into an argument.
After that night when Sodapop ran out on us, me an' Darry had been trying to keep calm. But no. Of course he has to yell at me. And about the deaths too.
I was thinking of sneaking out when I heard Darry scream. "WHAT?!?! SHIT! ALRIGHT WE'LL BE RIGHT OVER!!"
Figuring I was leaving the house I grabbed my coat and walked over to the kitchen, where Darry was putting in his coat.
"Get in the car. I'll explain there." He said. With no reason to argue, I went and got in.
Once we were on our way Darry said, "We are going to the hospital. Apparently Soda went to DX 'cause Soda was still at his shift. Some drunk Socs were there and were playing with cigarets near the gas tanks. And- and- Soda was- was caught in the blast."
I paled. Of course this happened. Why not? And to poor Sodapop who just wanted his brothers to get along. I couldn't help but feel like it was my fault that Soda got hurt.
"It's not your fault." Darry said. I guess he could see the face I was making, because I hadn't said anything.
"Yea. I know."
Although I said that, I still couldn't help feeling that it was me...

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

At the hospital, the doctor said Sodapop was in a critical condition, and no one was allowed to see him. I guess Darry was very persuasive 'cause in four minutes we were looking down at an unconscious Soda.
"Pepsi-Cola?" I heard Darry whisper.
I looked at Soda's wounds. His neck was pinkish-red and his arms were both badly burned with peeling skin. I assumed that most of his body looked the same.
Although the pink was all over his throat, Soda's face was completely unharmed, and he almost looked asleep, his breathing steady and his eyes closed.
I started to tear up and saw Darry crying, so I left the room before I cracked.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

We were at home now, well, we being me an Two-Bit. Darry caught me kicking equipment and destroying stuff in anger and sent me home. He thought it was anger at the Socs but it was at myself. It was my fault. And if Sodapop was hurt, I deserved to be hurt to.
Two-Bit had passed out on the couch and was snoring away, so I had no problem grabbing a knife from the kitchen.
Once I was back in my room I took the knife and without hesitation, sliced it across my wrist. The pain was intense at first, but then felt good. Like all my problems were drippings out with the blood coming out of my veins. I hid my arm under my blanket and let the blood flow out. After a while I felt dizzy, so I let my self slowly drift to sleep...