The outside of society (Ponyboy Curtis Fanfiction)

Ch. 1 In the beginning

*Two Years Before*
My alarm clock read 12:18am and they were still fighting. I can't remember the last time I fell asleep without any arguments or bottles breaking, but hey New York is all about loudness and fights, right? At least that's what my older brother always told me. Dylan was two years older than me and my best friend. He practically raised me while our parents were usually working or passed out drunk. My parents could never go a day without a drink, or a fight. We live in New York, not the best place to grow up but to be honest I think it prepares you for the rest of the world. Dylan protected me until I turned 12 or 13, since he was two years older he had other things he had to worry about. He never told me what those other things he had to worry about were, but I soon found out later.
My childhood wasn't much to talk about, mostly because I don't remember being a child. I grew up way too fast. But there was a time when I was a normal child with happy parents. It must have ended when I was about 5 years old. Mom and dad got into a huge fight after my dad lost his job and my mom cheated on him. It was all down hill from there, Dylan and I didn't even see it coming. I continued on with school though, and tried coping with whatever my parents were going through. However, when I first turned 14 my dad died after overdosing outside of a club one night. I remember that night clearly, my dad had gotten into yet another argument with my mom and said he was leaving once and for all. He came into my room at about 9:00 and said goodnight and left. Even though he was a drunk and didn't care much about Dylan and I, he was the one person that could handle my mother and not kill himself from it. When I was younger he was my best friend always by my side, but unfortunately, time has a way of changing things. Things got worse after he died; my mom could barely take care of herself  along with having to pay bills and make sure we ate everyday. Dylan helped out and got some money on the table, and also dropped out of school. Whenever I asked him about where he got the money he would tell me it's nothing to worry about. Even with the extra money from Dylan it wasn't enough. My mom would waste half of it to buy liquor rather than food. Thats when I decided to find a job for myself to help out as well. That's when I found out about Where Dylan was getting his money. I was walking down the street looking for job openings where they would hire a fourteen year old girl with no experiences, and after having no luck I began walking home.

Dylan always told me to never walk alone, it was too dangerous in New York especially where we lived. That night, walking home I got jumped. Of course I had no money on me but that didn't mean they weren't going to take advantage of me. Four guys had me pinned down. I could feel their cold hands reaching up under my shirt as I was kicking and screaming. They tried to get me to shut up until one of them pulled a blade. The blade was pressed to my neck about to seek blood until someone had lunged the guy off me. It was Dylan and two other kids. The last thing I remeber was seeing one of the guys hunched over on the cement, blood oozing out of his midsection. Dylan grabbed me by my shirt and practically dragged me home.
At home Dylan wouldn't talk to me. He cleaned the blood under my chin and asked if I was ok. That's when I lost it. I started screaming at him begging him to tell me what he's been hiding from me. I never thought he would tell me but he did. Dylan was apart of a gang as were many other kids in New York. This gang was involved with bad intentions and when I asked Dylan why he couldn't get out of it he said they'll kill him and that they give him money once a week after he does what they want. He was too far into the gang that there was no escape.
My brother, died the next year. He was shot by some thugs at 17 years old. He tried getting out of the gang but was defeated. After he died I grew stronger, more grown up, I did everything for myself and didn't listen to nobody. I soon had a bad reputation in the streets, and went around with any guy who asked me. As a few months went by, believe it or not my mom had got a boyfriend named Derek. I hated him the moment I met him. We moved a few months after Dylan died. Derek was from some place in Oklahoma, but they met in New York, he convinced my mom to move to Oklahoma with him. She didn't have much of a choice considering we were getting evicted. So we packed our things and left. I left my home, my dad, my brother, and the rest of my shitty life all in New York.