The Outsiders: Randy's Little Sister

Chapter 16: Sherbet Lemons

Maybe trigger warning at the end of the chapter

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"The whole story?" I sighed when he nodded.

"The whole story." Side by side, we started to walk home.

Two had said that we were going together, walking into town and we would meet the gang at house. I don't think they worried too much, 'cause I was with Two and he had a switch.

"C'mon."

I started to move. "My dad is a bad man."

"Is? Ya mean he's still alive."

I nodded. "He is a no good drunk that doesn't care 'bout anything but the beer in his hand. See, my brother, Randy, kicked him out, when I was asleep, one night."

"Ya had a Mum?"

"Died," I said bluntly. "Cancer, two days ago." I smiled sadly.

"Did ya love her?"

I thought about this question for a while. "Not sure really. My heart did, but my mind didn't and I still don't know which one lied."

"I'm sorry." Two said and looked at the ground.

"For what?"

"Everything that's happened in ya life."

"It's not your fault." We stayed quiet for a bit. "I think, Dally and Johnny had it worse though. I never had an injury like Johnny and I never had to be so mean like Dallas. Guess I got it lightly..... anyway the suitcase." I shook my head, violently, like it would make everything go away. "When me and Randy went to collect our stuff, we found money in the attic that supposedly belonged to our dad and we took it." I looked down. "I never thought it was the right idea to but we put all the money into two suitcases. One he would take, and the other one, ya looked inside it by mistake." We passed a store, that we went in and looked at the magazines.

The shop keeper stared at us grumpily. He was a middle aged man, with black hair and black rimmed glasses. He lived on the south side, for sure and ya could tell by his clothes. He was wearing a normal white shirt with a pale blue tie and a ugly orange cardigan. "Ya wanna buy one of those, sweetie?" He said when I picked up a magazine and flicked through it.

"No, just browsing." I said and nudged Two-bit and gave him a face saying 'what are we doing here?'

He went up to the counter and asked for a packet of cigarettes. Whilst the man turned his back, Two, carefully, put his hand in the transparent plastic sphere, so to not make any sounds, and took out a handful of the sweets inside and shoved them in his pockets. I rolled my eyes, but he payed for the cigarettes and before I knew it, we were back on the streets.

He passed me a sherbet lemon and I popped it in my mouth, concentrating on the flavour, to relax my mind.

"Told anyone the story of ya family." He put a second sweet in his mouth.

"My family is more messed up than that." I scoffed and kicked a stone on the ground.

"God, how?"

I debated telling him 'bout Lilly but once I did, it felt like a whole weight had been lifted off my shoulders.

"Never told, anyone 'bout all this." Two looked shocked.

"Nope, no one. Ya the first."

"It's a honour." He scoffed, then went all serious. "If she bugs ya again, tell me and don't use a single bit of that money, no matter how much ya want to help someone, no matter what ya want to do with it, if she comes back, ya don't want to be the person in debt."

My sherbet lemon had fizzed away into nothing and my tongue was left feeling numb from sucking the flavour out.

He lit a cigarette and offered me one, but I declined it, politely.

"Hey ya don't smoke?" Two chucked his cigarette on the ground and stamped on it as we walked passed.

"Nah."

"Good, it's a bad habit to get into."

"Then why do ya do it?" I asked as we turned onto the street of the Curtis' house.

"'Cause it feels nice."

We walked into the house and Mickey was on. Darry had offered everyone for some dinner, but like me, I didn't think anyone was hungry.

Not all of the gang was in the lounge though. Pony was in his room, reading, Dally had gone somewhere and Johnny, I think, was sleeping in Soda's room.

I went up to my room, leaving Two-bit to jump on the sofa. I turned the handle and stepped in, not feeling the wind from the window that I hadn't closed since I opened it two days ago. I walked towards it more, still not feeling the wind blowing the curtains. A wave of depression came over me and for once I wished maybe that I had taken those pills.

Why can't I feeling anything?

What's wrong with me?

Why do I feel so numb?

I looked at the mirror. It wasn't me who was staring back. I started to shake, violently and my breathing became so heavy. Where am I? The real me wasn't staring back and I didn't understand why. I narrowed my eyes and touched the mirror. It's not real. It's just a mood swing. Your vision is wrong. But me talking to myself made everything worse 'cause I fixated on my voice. It wasn't mine.

I punched the mirror, not enough to make it smash but enough to make a loud noise. "Bastard." I muttered. "Bastard." I screamed and punch it again. It still didn't smash but the pain seared through my hand. I heard footsteps up the stairs and I locked my door.

"Zola."

I didn't answer. I was staring at what I had done to my hand. I was surprised the mirror hadn't smashed 'cause I had hit it at so much force my knuckles had split. I took off my DX shirt but the blood went all over my white one underneath, so there were red splotches everywhere I touched. I looked at my knuckles and felt the splits but they stung too much. I didn't cry but my jaw was clenched tightly in anger.

"Zola. Open the door." It was Dally but I didn't care. All I thought was that he must have been down stairs when I came in.

I wasn't going to make a move to it, so instead I sat on the floor hugging my knees. "What's wrong with me, Dallas? The only time I feel my self is when I'm hurt or hurt my self."

"What have ya done?" He shouted. "Open the door, Zola. Open it now."