Part two: Johnny's POV

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 "Not again" I thought as I could see my father coming toward me with an unforgiving look on his face. I mean, he has never had any reason to be mad at me, so why was I getting hit so much? Next thing I knew I felt a familiar feeling of stinging and bruises being formed on my shoulder and back, I held back my tears. Cuts and wounds arrived on my body, every second I gained more hurt. There's nothing I could do. It's like I'm a helpless little bug that everybody steps on without reason. When he decided to be done, I looked over and saw my mother, drunk as ever yelling at my father. It was intelligible. She was never sober enough to defend me, and even if she happened to be, she wouldn't do it anyways. I don't know what happens to her when I'm not there, I don't want to know. Without hesitation I scrambled through the door and ran like my life depended on it. I have to find Ponyboy and the gang. I could still hear my dad yelling at me half way down the street, I looked back once, then kept going. I was really tired of doing this, of feeling unwanted in what I'm supposed to call home. The Curtis house felt more like a home to me, it was upsetting, but not at all surprising. Their house was maybe a five minute walk from my parent's, quicker when I run like this.

 When I stepped to the front lawn I saw Dally and Soda roughing it out and Darry and Pony standing nearby. Pony spotted me instantly and ran towards me.

"Johnnycake what's wrong?!" He held my shoulders.

"Just.. my dad." I sniffed. He hugged me as I tried not to cry even more in front of the gang, I felt okay to cry in front of Pony, but not the others.

Just friends, best friends -Johnnyboy Where stories live. Discover now