The Outsiders Imagines

Ponyboy Imagine

It was 1966 when I last saw him. He had been in a really bad place back then. Just lost his best friend to a nasty fire in a run down church. Watched another friend get shot down by the police when said friend was holding an unloaded gun at the ripe age of 17. Lost the girl he was beginning to have feelings for because she couldn't get past their social standings. Nearly lost his brothers because of a potential jail sentence. I met him days after his trial came to an end.

I had been intrigued by him when I first saw him at school. I had been new that year, and knew only that his name was Ponyboy, unique and different in a good way. His disappeared within a couple months, and I didn't see him until he was on the news for murder. I saw him again when he walked out of the courthouse after his trial. His blonde hair didn't do much for him, but his natural red-brown hair came back within the first couple months I knew him. He needed company. He needed to take his mind off of everything happening in his life. Wanted some control back. 

I understood. So much had happened in his fifteen years, and he needed someone to ground him. Allow him to focus on something other than death and despair.

What we had didn't last long though. When trying to have a simple conversation, he would be blankly staring off into space, or out the window. He wasn't completely there with me. Our lengthy calls became once a week to none at all. When I would come to visit him, his brothers, either Soda or Darry, would let me know he wasn't up for a visit.

He erased me from his life, making it as if I had never been in it to begin with. I struggled to understand why. I thought he needed me, just like I needed him. I understood him because we had a similar story.

My parents died the year prior, murdered accidentally when they were in the wrong place at the wrong time. Gangs had been highly prevalent in the area of New York I lived in, and my parents unfortunately were walking down the street and were hit with stray bullets from a shootout in an alley.

I had been sent to live with my Aunt and Uncle in Tulsa, but things hadn't gotten any better. Kids at school were hard to deal with. There were hard class standards here. You were either rich or poor, no in between like there was in New York. My Aunt and Uncle struggled, but took me in anyway. That just didn't sit well with the rich children at school. Even after Bob, the snobby rich kid that dated the girl Ponyboy liked, was killed, they didn't stop going after greasers. It almost got worse, especially for the girls.

I had been through a lot, maybe not as much as Pony had, but I understood. I understood him, and if he wanted to ice me out of his life, then so be it. But I could never let someone do that again. It hurt to lose Pony, and I couldn't get attached to someone so closely again without losing another piece of myself. Soon enough, there would not be any pieces left.

Flashback, the last time I ever saw Ponyboy.

"I don't want to talk today, (Y/N)," he said, trying to shut the door, but I stuck my foot in the threshold before he could.

"You don't have to talk, Pony. I just wanted to hangout. Maybe we could go to the movies? I heard there's a new one coming out tonight," I suggested. I didn't want to be alone today. I wanted to talk to Pony about the news I had recieved, but he didn't want to talk.

"I said I'm not interested. Go home."

Except there wasn't a home for me to go to. I had found out during my shift at the local diner not to long ago that our house had burned down, my Aunt and Uncle inside. I had struggled to keep my eyes dry ever since. I had no family left, and I was hanging on by a thread. I had considered Pony to be family, but he hadn't felt like that in months.

"Please Pony? We haven't hung out in weeks. I miss you."

My voice felt hoarse from crying. I wouldn't be surprised if my face was red and tear-stained. I couldn't be alone right now, and I needed my best friend more than anything. Even if it meant us sitting silently, I just needed his company.