Dallas Winston Has A Sister? (Outsiders Fanfic)

My Blood on His Hands

Note to Readers:  I don't usually switch points of view in the middle of a story, but this one is going to be like that.  Hope you like it, please comment! Also, feel free to comment if you notice any spelling or grammatical errors in any of my stories and I will try to fix them.

        Four kids, three boys and one girl, struggled against the fierce wind as they pushed their way down the sidewalk.  Their jackets were flapping and the wind was whipping their hair into their faces.

        The sky was growing darker and darker as thunderclouds rolled in, piling up in a great mass of gray, split occasionally by a streak of white lightning.  You could hear the leaves rattling together, the trees waving their branchy fingers everywhere.  A screech of metal grating on metal could be heard over the storm as the ferocious wind ripped a gutter from the side of a house, tossing it helplessly along the gusts of wind like driftwood on the ocean waves.

        The four teenagers all had their heads bent against the wind, and the girl glanced up to see how close they were to the DX station, their shelter from the raging storm that was progressively getting worse.  The moment she looked up, the piece of gutter that had been torn from the side of the house came hurtling towards her and bashed her in the head, turning everything black.

        I opened my eyes to see Johnny, Ponyboy, and Two-Bit standing over me.

        "Are you all right?" I heard Pony ask, his voice faint over the roar of the wind before it took the words away.

        I nodded and struggled to my feet, trying to keep my balance and keep my lunch down, cause the world was spinning though all three of them were holding onto my arms.  When I was upright, my vision suddenly blurred out again in my right eye as a warm red liquid seeped downward into it.  I wiped it away, finding my hand smeared with blood.

        We kept walking, pushing against the relentless wall of wind, and were hit by dead silence as the door to the gas station slammed shut behind us.

        The gash on my head didn't sting now that we were out of the wind, but the wind had dried a layer of blood on my forehead and my eyelid.

        Soda and Steve had been anxiously looking out the window, though they couldn't have seen us if we got home safely anyways.  The storm was pretty bad when we left school, it was my idea to go to the station rather than go home, cause even though it was in the wrong direction, it was a shorter distance, and due to the thunder sounding outside, shaking the small gas station, it was smart to get to shelter as soon as possible.

        "There you are," Soda said, sounding relieved, when we had come in the door.  "We were worried about you," and just then Steve asked almost disgustedly,

        "What happened to your head?"

        "Oh," I said, gingerly touching my forehead. It hurt, and I winced.  "I got hit in the head by something," and I noticed my voice sounded confused and slightly dazed.

        Everyone else must have noticed it too, and Two-Bit said worriedly, "You better sit down."

        I leaned against the counter, I was really dizzy now, and there were no chairs around. I fell into a dream-like daze, my senses all dulling.  I was really tired and I couldn't keep my eyes open.

        Something cool and wet sent a stinging pain shooting through my skull, and my eyes popped open.  Soda was trying to clean up all the blood, and I whined for him to stop and pushed his hand away like some little kid would, but he didn't listen.

        My eyes closed again, but I could still feel the washcloth sliding across my forehead, sponging up the blood and dampening my bangs that usually hung in my eyes. Occasionally a jolt of pain would rise up from the dull ache in my head and I'd wince.

        The motion across my forehead ceased, and I opened my eyes to see Soda holding the rag, the original color unidentifiable, it was now scarlet with blood.  His hands were tinged red with my blood too, and I felt a small lump of guilt form in my stomach, his hands shouldn't be stained with blood.

        I was such a wimp, and I hated myself for it.  This stupid storm, the wind blowing away my tough outer skin and making me vulnerable and weak, like every other girl in this town.  I wasn't like them, and I didn't want to be.

        I was exhausted, and I decided to let myself drift to sleep and not think about it anymore.  I didn't have the energy.