An Outsider Love Story

feeling empty

I started coming out of my room and out on the streets. I'd rob drug stores. I started carrying a heater with me everywhere I went. Buck gave it to me and told me to keep it hidden no matter what. But he also told me that if I need to use it, use it and get rid of it. It's untraceable so not so bad. I did the one thing I never was going to do. Smoke cigarettes. I was always against them but now, its what I do every second of the day. I got into fights more often. Not because they wanted to but I did. I wasn't searching for the fight but I most certainly finished it or scared them off.

One day I was hanging out with Angela, Tim and the Curtis brothers with Steve, Kathy and two-bit.  We were hanging out in the lot as the guys were chilling or playfully fighting. Angela was hanging out with Kathy and Ponyboy since he didn't want to fight. I sat on the hood of the abandoned truck smoking a cancer stick. I watched for a few minutes then started walking out of the lot. I didn't know where I was going but I didn't want to stay. I could hear the boys calling it a day when I saw a yellow corvette pull up beside me. I stopped and turned to face them as they were decked out in their pale button ups and their khaki pants. I take a drag out of my cigarette and roll my eyes.

"Your the broad who dated that hood. Your friends with the guy who killed our friend. Your also friends with the greaser kid who shoved a broken pop bottle at my brother." The larger guy says as the smaller one nods his head. The larger guy stepped forward away from the corvette but I didn't move.

 In his right hand he held a switch. I wasn't scared. I wasn't going to run away. I wasn't going to scream for the gang to come help me. No, I stood there.

"No screaming? Fighting? You aren't even going to run?" The guy smirks.

"Run?" My voice echoed, almost asking why, then remembering that these guys were socs. The idiots that jump greasers and was likely here to jump me. For a second I couldn't recognize my own voice.

"I suppose I should. You definitely aren't safe to be around. You are going to jump me right? Wouldn't you want to kill me in stead? How would you kill me? Slice my throat? Disembodiment? I read a story once where a character had his heart ripped out and stuffed down his throat. Though, you'd have to be fast, to be able to finish before I die." He looked frightened not sure what to do or say.

"What? Speechless?" I take another drag from my cigarette.

"You're fucking screwing with me. Are you seriously giving me ideas on how to kill you?" he finally asked, slightly breathless.

"Fuck is an impolite word. I should be afraid of you. I should be angry about this. I should run and scream. But I'm not, nor will I ever be again." I said automatically, and then understanding flared to life.

"Ah...I see. You don't know. Of course you don't know." I chuckled. This seemed to annoy him more than anything.

"I don't know what?" he stepped forward, his blade raising a little. A threat to make me answer faster? Or simply an anger issue he could not control?

"I've lost everything. I have nothing left and if you killed me I would thank you."

"What is wrong with you?" The soc backs up to his car as the smaller one was already in reaching back for the seatbelt.

"This world, the world made me this way. You, if you just stop jumping us and stop treating us like trash I'm pretty sure your friend would still be alive. So would mine. I wouldn't feel as numb as I do now. I would actually have emotions." I take a step forward as he holds the blade to my neck. The tip of the blade was barely touching me.

"Do it." I stare at the soc. He was shaking in fear. I could feel it dragging across my neck but not really cutting.

"Do it!" I yell with a dangerous grin plastered on my face. He takes a step back. I pull the heater out and cock it without dropping my cigarette. He gasped and shoves the blade in his pocket. He trips over his self as I raise the gun at him.

"You're crazy." He scampers off to his car. Starting the car and driving off all in one motion as I watch the car leave my sight.

"You're right. I am." I say out loud as I take a final drag out of my cigarette and throw it to the ground. My heel crushes the ember as I look up and see the gang watching me.

"Lola?" Kathy takes a step forward not coming any closer to me. They were scared. Scared I had become the one thing they wouldn't imagine me to be.

A true cold hood.

"Who are you?" Kathy gasped.

"What do you mean? I'm still Lola Shepard. I'm Lola the greaser girl.  I'm Lola who lost her friend. I'm Lola who's lost her boyfriend. I'm Lola who lost a child." They all look confused at me more than what they were before. Realization hits Tim as he looks at me.

"The doc when we left the hospital.." Tim looks at me. Angela silently cried.

"Yeah, doesn't matter now. Just another death to my list." I roll my eyes.

"You've changed." Soda steps forward pulling Kathy back to the gang.

"Don't tell me you expected me to stay the same caring and loving girl I was before?" I laughed.

They stare at me like I'm the maniac. Like I'm the psychopath. We all didn't start out like this. We were made this way. I mean one doesn't go crazy because no reason at all. We go crazy and psycho and be padded up into a room because no one understands us. No one understands what we've been through. What we have lost. Nothing can help us.

"You know death changes a lot of people. Death affects people differently." I look at the heater as my finger traces the barrel.

"It can make them feel like they should change, to feel better about themselves, could change the lifestyle the way they were raised. To be a better person. Could change their beliefs. Well for one thing that death has taught me is that I need to be strong. I need to be smart so nothin can hurt me. And if I can't do those things I might as well die. Because no one like me can survive in this shitty  world." I raise the gun up to my head pressing it to my temple.

"Lola no." Angela cries as Steve holds her.

"Listen, don't do this. You have so much to live for." Soda looks at me with pleading eyes that meant nothing to me.

"Do I really?" I laughed.

"I mean look at what I've done. I went to school. I got a job. I had a family. I got to fight. I did the unthinkable stuff that anyone would imagine doing. I lived my life. I'm done." I grinned dangerously.

"Put the gun down." Tim tells me. I shake my head no.

"Lola put the goddamn gun down!" He shouts but I laugh.

"You can't help me Tim. No one can." I grit my teeth.

"Please, don't do this." I could see the tears developing in Soda's eyes.

"Why don't you go run to Sandy." I snapped.

"If only you knew." He whispered. My finger rest on the trigger.

"I'm coming for you Johnny and Dally." I smile.

"LOLA NO!" Soda yells and runs for me. I pull the trigger.