The outsiders preferences and imagines

Golden Memories

Warning: suicide

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One boy has always been on my mind. His name is Johnny Cade. He had the cutest smile, and always was timid. We had a way of talking without really talking. We would sit in the lot, or trees or maybe on the roof. The conversation never ran dry between us.

Johnny was a small boy. He looked about fourteen despite actually being sixteen. I never forgot the time we spent together. Everyone of my books is dedicated to him. You never know how much you love a person until they're gone. I know it sounds cheesy but it's true.

I wrote my first book at fifteen. It was about how I lost Johnny Cade and Dallas Winston. I left parts out of course. Some of them were too boring and others were too intimate.

People always ask me if everything thing I wrote was true. Of course it was true, but some parts were toned down for the audience. I left out the parts about how when we stayed in the church we shared kisses and promises. I left out why Bob's gang really came for us. We were FAGGOTS and they couldn't have the likes of us in their town. I really did like cherry, she was a wonderful young woman.

I must sound ancient writing this when in reality I am only a mere sixteen year old. It seemed so long ago that I was dragged to Windrixville by a boy who I would follow across the universe. Maybe that's why I'm doing this now but I can't let him get away from me.

Darry,

I'm sorry I never let you in on these private things. You never knew how much I really did appreciate the love and support you gave.

Sodapop,

Don't let this get too you. You got over Dally and Johnny, you can get over me too. If I see your ass before you're eighty nine I'm going to be disappointed.

I love you both.

Don't take this the wrong way. It was nothing did or didn't do. I just have to catch up before he gets too far away. Listen to my favorites for me, will you soda? Don't let Elvis be forgotten. I know Steve still digs him. Please put me next to him. Ill be waiting. We can't waste these golden memories.

See you then,

Ponyboy Michael Curtis.

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Ponyboy laid down the pen he wrote with.

Inhale. Exhale.

He picked up the letter and set it on the floor next to him.

Inhale. Exhale.

Ponyboy had taken an entire bottle of painkillers, and downed them with a bottle of vodka he found in the liquor cabinet. The effects wouldn't be enough he decided.

Inhale. Exhale.

Ponyboy dug around in his closet until he found the blade. The fucking blade that started this all. The one that Johnny had stabbed Bob with. The one that had released his pain so many time before.

Inhale. Exhale.

Ponyboy slowly dragged the blade across his skin. The blood that seeped out was thick and fast. It stained the carpet and the clothes he wore. He began to feel lightheaded. It was a weird sensation to let this happen. He wasn't welcoming it, but maybe the painkillers had done something because he didn't feel a thing besides the light. He let himself fall into the dark embrace of sleep.

"Come back to me pony, I missed you" 

Bang!

The front door flew open signalling that Sodapop and Steve were back. Soda looked around for his brother. Ponyboy wasn't sitting on the couch or at the table. He told Steve to go get him.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Steve didn't want to go upstairs and get the kid, but he didn't want to upset soda either. They were careful with him after what happened.

Steve approached the door. He stuck out his hand and turned the knob. Ponyboy was on the floor. OH SHIT! PONYBOY WAS ON THE FLOOR IN A POOL OF HIS OWN BLOOD.

"SODA GET UP HERE OH SHIT GET YOUR ASS UP HERE ITS PONY." Steve had rushed forward and was checking for a pulse. By the time Soda pop was upstairs Steve was rocking Ponyboy in his arms.