Two Hearts one Holder

This Can't Be

"No...This can't be..." I thought, as I looked at his lifeless body infront of me. He's not dead. He can't be. This isn't right, that's it. I'm dreaming. The room grew silent. Tears stung my eyes. He wasn't dead, He couldn't be. I began to bawl my fists up. "He's not dead, he's not dead." I repeated to myself. I would wake up. In the hospital chair across from him, and he would be sleeping. The nurse would come in and check his vitals and tell us that he would be okay. It would be a long recovery, he would be paralyzed from the waist down but still be living, Breathing. "No...No...NO!" I screamed, as I fell to the floor tears taking over. I let out a long sharp piercing cry. Ponyboy covered in cuts and bruises began to cry too.

I could tell he tried to hold it in. I don't think my crying helped. I began to weep. Johnny was dead. All he wanted to do was help. He didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve anything that happened to him. He deserved the best. But instead got given the worst. I held my face in my hands as tears kept falling. I wanted them to stop, I tried. Everytime I did they would shortly come back in heavy Quake breaths. "Johnny come on man..." Dallas said, hope in his voice. "So this is what you get,huh? This is what you get for helping people?" His face began to grow from soft to hard. "You punk." I looked up to see Dallas on the brink of tears. Dallas never cried. And if he did it would have never been infront of anyone. Not even us. "Come on Johnny don't die." He cried, as he held onto Johnny's arm. "Come on Johnny don't die on me now." He pled.

My heart sunk to my stomach. I watched as he got up and threw his fist against the wall, "Bastard!" His body sunk against the wall. He looked back to see Johnny's lifeless body and covered his hands over his face. He left the room quickly. I could hear Ponyboys soft sobs next to me. I picked myself off the floor as tears streamed down my face. I placed a hand on Ponyboys shoulder. He flinched a bit at my touch and turned to look at me. Tears filling his eyes. He hugged me. I hugged him back placing my head on his shoulder as we both began to weep. Our bestfriend was gone. The body that laid infront of us wasn't Johnny. Johnny was gone. Not in the hospital anymore. Not laying down infront of us anymore.

I began to shake in Ponys arms. I began to grow choked up. I closed my eyes tight. Ponys grip and mine growing as we hugged one another. This wasn't real. I was dreaming. I mean I had to be. Johnny wasn't dead, no. Johnny would grow old, have a house in Tulsa, get married, have kids, discover the world, discover himself, and die of old age. Not from saving lives of others which took his own. No. I thought about that night. And how it all started. Maybe just maybe if it wouldn't have happened Johnny would still be here. All four of us would be out at a diner drinking shakes and blowing our straw wrappers at customers and workers. Laughing and getting kicked out. We would go to the Curtis house and hang out with the gang. We would be safe. Together. The scenes all played together in my head. Like a film. Piece by piece resulting in this.

Johnny's death....