Filthy Paradise

"Sugar That's Enough!"

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Sugar's Pov

It's been a couple weeks since the whole drowning in the fountain incident and I'm still trying to get past it. It's kinda working mainly because I've found something to release all my tension. It started off with me stealing a couple from packs laying around whenever I saw the opportunity, but now I use the five finger discount when it comes to stores. A lot of the time they are behind the counter, other times they're right there on the shelf ready for easy access. I've gotten to the point where I'm usually gone all day, roaming around smoking one right after the other. I go through a couple packs a day, sometimes it lasts me a whole week. I can feel the anger getting worse with every time my voice raises in pitch. The gang has definitely taken noticed, a lot of the time Soda asks me if I'm alright my usual answer is that I'm fine. I'm thinking I'm far from fine, but I won't tell any of them that.

I've just got this anger that consumes the hell out of me and causes me to explode on people over the slightest of things. Get this I was walking with Two to the DX (it's where my brother Soda works) when he just asked me why I was so angry all the time, but also get this, he made a joke about me being on my period. What is with men these days acting like little boys? It's quite rude and I'm getting pissed. So that day Two stayed away from me for the rest of the day and it caused me to have an important discussion with Soda and oddly enough Steve. Don't even get me started on how strange Steve's been acting. Okay, I'll tell ya anyway mainly because this is my story after all. Steve was talking about how angry girls make angry women or somethin' like that but it probably was just as ridiculous. That's not the point anymore, the point is that I'm pissed at everything and it's not my period.

Stepping on the cig, and squishing it with my toes through my ratted shoes. Huffing as I blow the hair out of my eyes. It's about mid-day and nobody's come lookin' for me yet. They're probably all celebrating that I'm not around all I've been is a pain. Looking left then right as I stop and sit on the curb. My legs stretch out with my elbows resting on my knees. I place the new cigarette to my cracked lips and light it with a Zippo. I inhale the toxic smoke, and I feel it go down to my ruined lungs. I exhale and the smoke quickly travel up my throat and out of my mouth. My head slightly spins due to the small nicotine high that buzzes through my petite body. I take in the view in front of me, old houses with other greasers living in them barely surviving from paycheck to paycheck. Green grass shines bright on almost every lawn; all these lawns are better looking than mine. There's patches on dead grass sprawled all over the yard, it's like a piece of everything dead around that house, inside it too. There' a piece of me missing as well, I can't take my random acts of anger. I'm getting tired of being treated like porcelain. They're trying so hard to make me happy and stay happy. They're really tryi-.

"My Sugar doll." Shouts the laid back voice of the one and only, Dally Winston.

I take another puff of the cancer stick before I drop that to the ground and repeat the squish. "Hey Dal. " I reply with a small smile as he comes and sits next to me.

"What's good kid?" Dally asks, looking at me with a smile.

"Nothin." I reply shrugging off his leather covered arm from my shoulder. I look to my right to see Johnny and Ponyboy sitting down on the curb next to me. "Hey Johnny and Pony."  They both give me a small hey.

"Don't be pouty now." Dally exclaims.

"What's got you so happy?" I ask looking at him.

Dally's not a bad looking guy, I mean he's got an elflish looking face with a smirk to make girls fawn over him. I always wondered what Dally would be like if he never grew up in New York. Ain't it weird how people leave a life behind and start a new one? I wish I could do that, maybe I wouldn't be so angry all the time. "Can't a guy be happy for no reason?" He asks sending me one of those smirks as he places an unlight cigarette to his lips. He soon lights it.