Everything was white. The plastered walls, the cork ceiling tiles, and the cotton bed sheets. Plain; the room was, and painfully bright as the sun rays shined through the curtain-less window on the right. A repetitive beep was heard at every second. The door was shut, but the sound of shuffling feet, clicking high heels, telephone rings, and hushed murmurs in the hallways outside the room were still heard. It was all too familiar, Dallas Winston thought to himself, as he lied in the white, cotton sheet bed, with a tube stuck on his arm. The last thing he remembered was running from the police, then the excruciating, burning sensation of the metal bullets burrowing into his skin, and the disgusting feel of hot blood oozing out. Though it was physically painful, it was emotionally freeing. Dallas found his life pointless without Johnny as his faithful shadow. So he took the initiative to end it himself. Bewildered, he was, to find himself alive and breathing. The chances of surviving being shot seven times was unlikely. You could call it a miracle, but to Dallas, it was like waking up in hell, again. (Note: I do not own The Outsiders or any of the original characters. All rights go to S.E. Hinton.) WARNING: Strong language throughout

your hair is long slicked back by the grease of hardship you look tuff but you're worn and they know it are you drowning? drowning in the hatred, the grease, the violence against your life your life a fourteen year old life not yet an adult but still not a child war has aged you theres grease on your soul and smoke in your lungs you will never be full again of course not, you're a greaser a greaser who has no money who has no friends who has no love who has no...parents "I don't want to die."- he says you're choked by the tears that sting your acid throat no one wants to die but you gotta you gotta fight for your own you gotta do what you can then return back to the embrace of your brother who holds you as you cry greaser tears to sleep who is also holding back his own tears his tears for his brother whom is already lost "stay gold."- he says gold like the sunset yet you rip rip rip until theres nothing left you could be brandished a hero or die helplessly in front of the street lights flopping like a fish void of water unable to breathe because the one thing you love is gone gone with the wind with your band of brothers you fight you are brothers, brothers by heart brothers by the bruises that permanently line your arms brothers by the ones you've lost bound together like the never ending chain of lies that brought you to this day separated at birth but rejoined in poverty your hair is long slicked back by the grease of hardship you look tuff but you're worn and you know itl