The Outsiders Imagines

Johnny • Simple Type

I would suggest listening to some flute & after that listen to bit by bit by mother mother

***

The praire landscape stretched out for miles, untethered and vast. It accepted the elements, welcoming the morning sun and soaking up every drop it had to offer. The sky was shifting, gradually meshing between gradients until it found its perfect hue. This sky was not the same sky that bore heavy gloom over the shy boy's hometown, it simply could not be.

Johnny Cade closed his eyes, laying on his back and letting out a soft sigh as the gentle wind ruffled his hair and snuck up his shirt. The weather was so warm it seemed to hug him. He let it embrace his bare chest, using his shirt as a pillow instead now.

Happy place.

Oh yes, he was happy here. For now, any worry was now out of sight, and for the time being out of mind too. This is what he sat on that bus for hours for, he'd had enough of the small town city rush. He needed to see the country. He'd have given anything to hear the quiet rumble and crunching of cattle from not so far away, the tickling grass pressed to his back and the old trees that whistled and told stories. Now that he was here, he realized that it was all he ever wanted. Ponyboy would probably like it too.

It was wild and unruly, untouched by city pigs and to him, it was beauty in its purest form. Often in his life, he felt unlistened to. But the soil would listen, as he turned thoughts over in his pretty little mind.

Happy, so happy.

As he laid in comforting silence on the ground he grasped a tuft of grass and then let it trickle from his palm and blow away. In a few hours he would be obliged to bus it back to Tulsa and embrace the smog and unsmiling faces. Now though, he breathed clean air and let the sky's warm glow kiss his cheeks.

The sun suited him well.

Alongside his shirt, he'd kicked his shoes off too, leaving them by his feet with his socks in them. If his feet did get dirty, he wouldn't mind too much. For miles, all he could see was field, and trees and creatures that wandered carelessly.

Clean, unbothered land.

It was nice to be alone out here. Oh, Johnny didn't mind it one bit, he didn't  like people all that much anyway. Lazily, he rolled over onto his front, feeling the grass against the shadow of his abdomen. The breeze whistled and stroked his hair, so he looked up, squinting at the sun. Man, he could stay here forever.

In an instant, a tiny woodland rabbit scurried past and disappeared into its burrow. He wouldn't try to chase it down like he did the ones in the forest back home with Pony. No, he was too relaxed to bother it. Instead, he looked across the stretch of land hopefully, maybe there was more of them. Who knew that this was all he needed to undo years of consistent discontent. He'd never noticed clouds and colours so much before, but they thrived here.

A good few miles away, a girl was singing. She wandered about on her own save for the shepard dog that wandered alongside her. Johnny watched, noticing that she was pretty. She sat, singing softly and patting the dog that sat beside her.

Johnny smiled, rolling onto his back again and listening with his eyes shut. Boy, did her voice sound pretty.

"Golly..." he sighed to himself, looking up at the slow, everchanging sky. This place gave him hope, and his heart sunk and swelled with the thoughts of rich factory running folk coming out and ruining it. He wouldn't tell anyone about the place, except perhaps the boys. After highschool he could see himself living out here. The earth that he sprawled out on must have been special, because it was the first time that he saw a future for himself.

As if it were the natural thing to do, he whistled a tune, certain that if he stayed out in the sun unoccupied for too long that he'd undoubtedly fall asleep. He wondered how far the nearest town was, guessing that it couldn't be too much of a walk. With all the cattle being out, there had to be a ranch or something close by.

A ranch. Hm, he could work in a ranch, start a life out here and maybe get himself a girl. A soft spoken, strange little lady that could sing to him and let him lay his head on her lap while they talk about their childhood. Maybe she'd brush her cold hands across his face, tracing the lines around his scar and plump lips before leaning in for a kiss. How he'd love that.

All of a sudden he'd got himself thinking about how nice it would be to get his life together, bit by bit. Beyond that of the town that weighed him down and confined him to things he never asked for, there was something more out there.

Maybe he didn't want to die or run away. The soil was listening, and he didn't need too much of anything more.