Outsiders Fan Fiction

This was an English project and it came out good. It's basically a scence from The Outsiders by S.E Hinton but from Johnny's point of view instead of Ponyboy's. I don't own anything!

                Blood dripped off the handle of my switch blade as I listened to Pony gettin’ sick next to the fountain. I closed my eyes, shakin’ something awful. I couldn’t go home now, I could picture the beatin’ I’d get from my old man if I went home covered in the Soc’s blood. “Johnny Cade! I thought we raised you better than this! You think you can just attack people whenever you want, then come into my house drippin’ in blood? I jumped as I heard him holler, though it was in my head. They’d keep me locked in that awful house and starve me. Being as skinny as I am, I’d be nothin but skin after a few days. I pushed my long, dark hair, thick with hair grease, out of my eyes and turned to my buddy. His pale skin was mirroring what I felt. I could see it in his eyes; he didn’t blame me, not at all. It was my fault we’d have to drop out of high school like his brother Sodapop. My fault we’d have to run away. Bein greasers, we couldn’t hold a fair murder trial. East Side kids never stood a chance in court. If Pony went to a boy’s home because of me, I knew I’d lose my mind.

“Johnny! What are we going to do? They put people in the electric chair for killing people!” Pony’s voice was rising in alarm and I tried to shut him up.

“Dally. Dally’ll get us outta here.” I said confidently. He was a good guy, a real tough one, but he was always trying to help me out.

            We stood on Buck Merril’s door step waitin for Dally to answer the door. Pony was shivering, his teeth chattering loudly. His cloths were soaked, I hadn’t noticed before. They had tried to drown him, of course he’d be wet. I shook my head to try and clear it, but I kept seeing Bob, face down in a puddle of his own blood.  When Dally answered, we told him the whole story. Speakin fast, I started to shake when I got to the part about me killing Bob. But the blonde boy just smiled, said I was gettin tough. I stared at the floor as he handed me a heater and some money. He handed Pony a jacket, and I realized everyone thought I was gettin tough. I had murdered someone, of course they’d think that. But deep down, I knew I wasn’t. Just like I knew I could never fire the heater.

            The moon shone high and bright over the street. We moved quietly, like mice through an attic, as we made our way quickly to the train tracks. I jumped at every little noise, expectin it to be the Soc’s or the fuzz. The cold metal of the heater felt heavy in my pocket and I put my hand on it, as if to hide it from the rest of the world. Pony and I sat in the dew-soaked grass as the far away screech of the train’s bell echoed through the dark night. It got closer and closer, every time it blew, it scared me bad. It pulled slowly into the station, the dull roar of its engine deafening from this close. Climbing quietly, we pulled ourselves into the box car. It was dark and damp, but it was the most comfortable I’d been all night. I suppose it wasn’t night anymore. It had to be ‘round one or two in the morning. Pony fell asleep as soon as his head hit my leg. I wasn’t very comfortable, but I couldn’t bring myself to wake him. Poor Pony had been through a lot today, and most of it was because of me. I blamed the Soc’s. I blamed Bob and his rings. I blamed the blue mustang and the people in it. I blamed everyone I could think of, from Cherry to Darry. I must have known it was my own fault, but at that moment it didn’t matter. I worried for hours, but I must have fallen asleep ‘cuz the next thing I knew, I was throwin myself and Pony of the train. I was still in a haze, my legs numb and wobbly. Shoot, I thought, why’d I let Pony sleep on my legs?

            The area was beautiful. The morning sun shone over our heads as I took in all the sights. Lush greenery for as far as I could see. The smell of flowers wafted in the air, each breeze brought a new mix of scents and I took deep, intoxicating breaths. This was the first time I’d been away from our little neighborhood, and we couldn’t have been in a better place. Winderixville was beautiful. I smiled for the first time in awhile as I watched Pony walk towards an older farmer. The man had a large middle and a friendly smile. He pointed north from where we were standin. Jay Mountain wasn’t that far away, and it was nice enough to walk without much effort. We walked in comfortable silence, neither of us speakin, neither of us feelin the need to.

The old church was musty and cold. I knew we’d have to be here for awhile, and it wasn’t a nice hotel, but it would do and I wouldn’t complain. We sat down for awhile, taking in our surroundings, making plans in our heads for what to do next. We didn’t say much and when I turned to tell Pony I was going to go get some stuff from the store down the road, he was dead asleep on the floor of the church. He could sleep anywhere, and I’d swear to it. A rusty old box car, a vacant lot, an old church. The thought of the lot brought back memories from the night before. Just last night Pony had come to me in a violent rage about Darry. Just last night Bob and his drunken friends had attacked us in the park. Just last night I had killed Bob Sheldon.

Author's Note

I know some of the words are wierd. Like heater and Soc and greaser, but i was trying to copy S.E Hinton's writing style. That was the project my teacher assiagned us, so heres my best shot