Disclaimer: I don't own The Outsiders or the characters *sobs into pillow*
REVIEW OR I WILL SLAP YOU IN THE TEETH.
This is the first time I've written anything since you (and Dally) were killed. For days, weeks, maybe even a couple of months, I found myself at a loss for words, nothing worthy enough to disrupt a blank page. I'm pretty sure that's why my English grade dropped so much. Darry wasn't too happy about that. Anyway, last night I questioned my reasons and negligence, deeming them weak and stupid. Maybe even cowardly. I was literally trying to ignore your death, and that just made everything worse for me. I didn't do anything about it though. Last night, I lay in bed beside Sodapop, thinking to myself, Why can't I write? How dare I give myself up to fear and self-doubt, by just telling myself that I didn't know what to say. What bullcrap. I knew what to say. I was just too afraid to say it because that meant I had to accept that my best friend was dead. But I finally managed to muster up the courage to go to my desk, sit down with a pencil and paper, and write you this letter.
Much has changed since you died, yet also much has stayed the same. Everyone was changed by you and Dally dying. It changed the gang a lot. Darry works harder and later, but he doesn't yell at me as much anymore and now we have a better relationship. We understand each other better, even though we have little spats about school now and then. Soda is always worrying about me, but he still makes everyone plaster a big grin on their face. You can't get mad at that guy. His smile is too infectious. He's been making even weirder food than usual lately, which makes everyone laugh. Two-Bit is still obsessed with Mickey Mouse and is always making wise-cracking jokes as usual, but he is actually trying to pass the eleventh grade for once. Can you believe it?! He says that it's time that he starts trying to get a job too to support his sister and mom. He still drinks booze a lot though. I guess some things never change. Steve still doesn't like me all that much (and the feeling is mutual), but he doesn't get hacked off at me as easily, so I guess he tolerates me a little more than he used to. And me? I guess I've changed. I haven't really noticed, but according to the gang I don't talk as much (even though I was pretty quiet, to begin with), I don't eat as much (that's not my fault! Everything tastes like baloney to me!), and I've been staring off into space more than usual (I'm usually daydreaming about the time we spent in the church and us two as Southern gentlemen in Gone With the Wind). So yeah, as I said, everything has changed, but at the same time, nothing has. Johnny, you were the piece in the puzzle that held everyone together. You were our pet. Our little brother (even though you were older than me). My best friend. We all miss you. Savvy?
At least once a week — although it used to be every day — my internal monologue stops me cold to screech, "I CANNOT FRICKIN' BELIEVE THIS." Yes, obviously denial is a stage, but the idea that it is something linear — a thing to move through or past — is insultingly naive to me. Grief is a Venn diagram of emotions. It comes in a riot of color, pulsing with saturation as competing feelings fade in and out. Bright, then dim again. I don't think I'll ever get rid of it. For weeks, I was in denial. I tried to tell everyone that I was the one who killed Bob, that you weren't dead. I'm pretty sure everyone thought I was crazy. I know I do now that I think back to those moments.
When my birthday came, the gang had a little party. Marcia and Cherry were invited. I'm pretty sure Two-Bit and Marcia have crushes on each other. Anyway, I cried when the day of the party came because I realized that you wouldn't be there. I cried even harder when I realized that you would never be here. I could never find you in the park ever again or the lot because I knew that you weren't here. Although, it would be pretty darn creepy if you were. I would probably think that I was either crazy, boozed up, or both if I ever actually saw you there.
Anger is another one, isn't it? A stage. Still, I'm hacked off that there are terrible people like some of the Socs walking around on this earth, and you are not. It's so unfair, you'll go crazy thinking about it too long. I think I would have if I hadn't been snapped out of it by my brothers. Sometimes I have these flares of rage, where I might, say, wish death on a stranger who has accidentally elbowed me in the halls of school. YOU DON'T DESERVE THIS LIFE my brain screams at that them. I never used to swear vengeance on a stranger during any time of my life. Not even the Socs. Maybe I need a vacation. Maybe that will help calm me down and make me happier. But I don't think we have enough money to do that, so I guess that's out of the picture.
I didn't get to say goodbye to you! But I did at the same time! I was there when you died, and you said your final words to me, but I never got to say mine to you. I was thinking about them, but all that came out of my mouth was, "Please don't die, Johnny!" Why couldn't I say how much I loved you, and how good of a friend you were, and all the other sappy stuff that you can find in romance and sad movies?
And this is where it ends for now. I'm sure I'll have more to say to you, and about you when people ask me about you. I carry your memory around like a lucky coin. I was so lucky to know you and to say with confidence and pride that you're my friend. My best friend. It's an impossible reality to say that my best buddy was killed. What are these terrible words? They're surreal in their cruelty.
No. I might accept your death, but I will never get over it. I hate how I'm supposed to go about my daily life without you, but I know that I will see you again someday. It would be cruel of God to not let us see each other. I've had the best life with you, and I just want to say thank you for everything. We love you - me and the gang. Have a good afterlife in Heaven.
Your best buddy,
A/N- We read The Outsiders in class and I've been obsessed ever since, haha. We had to write a letter from one character to another and one of the options was Ponyboy to Johnny. I honestly just thought of this assignment as fanfiction the entire time lol. Maybe that's why I actually tried on this.
We had to use proper grammar in this, so this is pretty out of character for Ponyboy and I didn't feel like editing it so that it would sound like he was talking and not some fancy Soc.
I hope you guys liked it!
REVIEW OR I HUNT YOU DOWN, TIE YOU UP, AND READ ALL OF YOUR FAVORITE CHARACTERS DEATHS TO YOU UNTIL YOU BREAK.