The outsiders preferences and imagines

Bob's Perspective

The day of bob's death from his perspective

  Bein' a Soc ain't easy. We're expected to bring home good grades and good girls. Our parents don't really care what we do other than that. The Greasers ain't got a worry in the world. They just hang with their gangs or lone it. For that, sometimes we mess 'em up a lil'; My parents, doubt they would care, don't know. My dad is a big time landowner, and my mom is the local hospital's secretary. Sometimes it's hard to tell the difference from the Greasers and Hoods. At first we tried to only ruff up the Hoods, but eventually we just gave up trying to tell the difference. In our defense that Dally kid looks just like a Hood, but he hangs out with Darry's gang. I don't normally jump kids, but when I jumped the kid wearing the jean jacket it was a dare; I think his name is Johnny. I don't like jumping Greasers, but I have a rep to uphold as a Soc. I guess one perk of being a Soc is that whenever we're picked up by the fuzz, our parents bail us out pretty quick.

The night I died, I was really hammered. Our girls had left us for Greasers. We saw them when we were "patrolling", as Randy liked to call it. Dave spotted Cherry and Marcia walking with some Greasers. I got out to try to get them to go home with us. One of the Greasers was getting pretty livid, I could see it in his eyes.

" We're willing' to fight! Ain't we Ponyboy?" He said as broke a bottle on the sidewalk and handed it to his friend. He got his switchblade out of his back pocket in the same motion.

" Oh you are, are you? Well let me remind you that there four more of us in the back of the car." I threatened. I couldn't help it. Sometimes i just have to scare them to make 'em back off. Cherry wasn't having this, so she and Marcia got in the car. I wondered if it was just so we wouldn't mess 'em up bad.

The boys and I were driving around in my Mustang, when we spotted a couple of Hoods in the park we got out to see what they were doin'. The boys place bets on how far we think one of us will go when we jump someone. I normally don't, but that night I was placin' bets. As we got closer I realized the two guys were Greasers, not only that, but they were the ones who picked up our girls. I started to get mad.

"Hey, Bob, bet you won't mess those kids up real bad" Rand one of the guys from my group said. I chewed it over for a little bit, and decided to make a bet against it.

" Oh yeah? I bet I will" I countered. We were pretty close to them now. I don't know what was going through my mind, but I was ready to prove Rand wrong.

"Hey! Rand ain't these the Hoods who picked up our girls?" I looked at him as I talked," Think the one with the long hair needs a bath, don't you? Dave why don't you give him one." Dave was pretty soused and he's a lot stronger than he looks. Dave thrust the kid's head into the fountain. At first he struggled, then he just kinda went limp. I started to freak; A jumping is one thing, but a murder? You can be put in the chair for that kinda stuff. I tried to pull dave off, but he was too strong; I fell backwards.

That kid, Johnny, I guess he had knife or something sharp enough to pierce the skin. When I felt a sharp pain in my side, I knew something was wrong. I didn't care 'bout the warm trickle that was coming from my side. I only wanted to get that guy out of the fountain. By that time Dave and the others ran off.

I pulled the guy, no, kid out of the fountain. He looked barely fourteen. I tried checking for a pulse; I could hardly stand, let alone check for a pulse without crushing the kid. I was leaning on the fountain now, and it was getting hard to see. My breathing was ragged, and my legs were weak. I was pressing on the wound with my hand, like my dad taught me; It was too big for me to do much good. I could feel the life-blood draining out of my body. As I laid against the fountain, I thought of Cherry, and how she would probably not go to my funeral. How she would be off with Dally Winston "the dreamiest of all boys". I thought of how my parents would take this. My dad would go back to his darker self, and start to drink a lot again. My mom? Well she'd cry until her last tears were shed, and she could cry no more. She would tell my dad he needed to " get his dysfunctional life back together, and be her husband again". Of course this would be way after I was dead. I laughed at the thought. Why should I care? I won't be there to see it anyway.

"O-oh shoot! Ponyboy get up! Pony!" I heard Johnny trying to wake up Ponyboy." Pony come on!"

I was really dying, there was no hospital to save me.

Darkness, that's all dying really is,

Dark

And cold

Dark...