What the title says. Requests are OPEN!!!!
Disclaimer: I do not own the outsiders, all rights go to S.E Hinton. Only the OC'S are mine.
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NEW- Hea...
You guys asked for a part 2, so here is a part 2! I am so excited that you guys like this story! Guess what else, I finally ranked! #15 in the Darry catagory! Let's see if we can get an even better number! :) Thank you all The pictures below are how I picture the Curtis household. This will be essential for this story. (Yes it is a two story house) If you guys want a better drawing I am willing to take some time to make and official lay out on a bigger sheet of paper. WARNING: Violence is present in this chapter!
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The house seemed just like it always had. As if, even though we had left and things were changing, the house was the same. It was an amazing nostalgia, it filled my body and made me feel like Two-Bit again, instead of private Mathews. I decided to take a quick walk through of the house, I had a great compulsion to make sure everything was still in the same place, right where I had left it. The living room was the same. The T.V. was at the front of the livingroom, with the couch on the opposite wall and Darry's chair right next to the couch, still angled the same way it had always been. If you kept walking back there was the kitchen, old brown table and everything, including the old screen back door. Next, off the right hand side of the living room was the hallway that had 2 doors. One for Darry's room and one for the bathroom. Darry's room was never only occupied by only him. It was always him, and D.G. then sometimes Dallas and Steve would sleep on the floor when they had no where else to go. The bathroom was a strange pale yellow that had always kind of clashed with the old white bathtub tiles. It was old, and it was stained, but it was ours. After entering the hallway with those doors, to the left was there staircase to the small hallway where there were doors for Pony and Soda's room, and also T.C. and my room. The room Pony and Soda stayed in was a bit bigger than T.C and mine's. They shared a queen sized bed in an old, light blue room, with a broken desk. The room was the personifcation of their brotherly bond, old, tattered, but strong and loyal. Finally the room I shared with my kid sister. It wasnt much, it really wasn't. Before the Curtis folks died the room was Soda and Ponys old room, before they moved into the slightly bigger one across the hall. In the middle of the small room there was a queen sized matress, without a frame, it was Soda and Ponys old one. Next to the matress was a small nightstand with a drawer. In the drawer was a bottle opener, my switch blade, and my old inhaler that T.C. kept close. No one really knew about my asthema, mostly becuase I hadn't had an asthema attack in almost four years, at least that is what the gang knew. . .
