The Outsiders: Tally

Who Let the Dog Out?

Curly finds Dallas' collar.

-

Taking care of two rotten siblings wasn't an easy job. Whenever Tim thinks about his maternal job, he rolls his eyes as the nagging voice of Curly and the sassy tone of Angela come to mind. How does Darrel do it? Tim would think to himself.

One weekend, he had the absolute pleasure of leaving his comfortable bed and walking all the way to the supermarket in order to retrieve some groceries. It was one of his many tasks as a parental figure for his siblings.

Slipping into a pair of old sweatpants and throwing on a sweatshirt, Tim was ready to go out. He tied his hair back into a small bun and put his hood over his head. He didn't feel like interacting with anyone, especially when he was feeling like he could fall asleep at any moment.

He slithered out of his room and made his way over to the front door. That's when his nosy brother Curly made his presence:

"And where the hell are you going?"

Tim let out a long, drawn-out sigh, hoping Curly would get the message that he did not want to be bothered at the moment.

"I'm going to the store. Do you want anything specific?" Tim said, his voice sounding raspy and in desperate need of sleep.

"Uh... get me some potato chips. Someone finished them last week," Curly said.

"Yeah. It was you, dickweed," Tim snapped, rolling his eyes, "If Angela asks for me, just tell her I'm out. Don't start any fights with her. I don't wanna come home to a mess."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever, you fuckin' buzzkill. See ya later," Curly spat, his nasty attitude spilling out of him.

Tim growled to himself, biting back the millions of other insults he stored for Curly specifically. With the loud slam of his screen door, the eldest Shepard sibling was gone.

Curly was left in the kitchen with a finished bowl of cereal. Like any other 15-year-old, Curly was bored out of his mind. It was the weekend and kids like him were supposed to be out and about. But most of his buddies were in the reformatory, so he had no one to kick it with.

If anything, he could hang out with Ponyboy and them. Ponyboy, Curly thought to himself. A young, talented, smart, stubborn, cute, adorable...

Curly shook his head furiously. He decided to stay inside for his own good.

Out of boredom, Curly ran around the house, searching through old bins of clothes and looking through old photo albums. Looking through them, he couldn't help but softly smile at the stained images of his parents. He rubbed his thumb across their faces sadly.

Where the hell are they? he thought to himself.

Suddenly, the photo album he was holding onto was swiftly snatched out of his hands. He looked up and snarled. It was his sister Angela, who had just painted her nails a conniving red. The color suited her.

"What's this?" Angela said, licking her finger as she exaggeratingly flipped through the pages of the photo album.

"An old photo album, dumbass," Curly insulted her, grabbing the album from her, "It's fucking rude to snatch, you know."

Angela scoffed, crossing her arms.

"Says you," Angela said, "As if you have any manners."

Curly looked her up and down before spitting on her, laughing at her squeals of disgust.

"Ugh! Curly!" she screamed.