Life in The Outsiders Imagine

I'm in their world now?

I'm in the car on the way to school on a rainy Monday morning. The day will drone on like it always does. At least school ends today. Winter break! Why they made us go on a Monday, I'll never know. The rain pours harder and harder. I turn the windshield wipers on and turn the radio up. A song by my favorite singer just ended. Taylor Swift sure is amazing. I know almost all her songs.  "Wake Me Up," by Avicii comes on. I wish someone could "wake me up when it's all over." I yawn. I start thinking about my favorite movie and book of all time, The Outsiders. How I wish I could be there, in the story. How wonderful.... I'm such a daydreamer... Like Ponyboy...He would be good for my friend, Cara. But I'm also sensitive, like Johnny... However, I'd so want Dally as a boyfriend. Johnny would probably be my brother...Then suddenly, my car swerves in a puddle and tumbles. I fall into a slumber.

I awake, on a sidewalk. Where am I? I stand slowly, hearing a car horn and some guys shouting. What were are saying? "Hey Greaser!" Huh? Greasers? Like from The Outsiders? My eyes widen as I realize who is standing there. A boy in a purple jacket and jeans. Pony. I run to catch up as they get out of the car and push him, pulling out a knife. I feel a bit dizzy, but that doesn't matter. I get in front of the Socs. "Hey you guys better stop messing with him!" I yell and push one of them back fiercely. I glare and say (remembering my 60s slang), "I'll call the fuzz on you if you don't lay off!" I reach for my cell phone in my back pocket, and it's a switchblade. I briefly look confused, then look more confident as I let the blade show with a resounding "click". A Soc tries to stab me, but I hit the blade out of his hand. He moves to punch me in the face, and somehow, I catch the punch. I twist his arm behind his back, making him yelp in pain. Another one comes behind me and hits the back of my head, but I kick him in the shins, bringing him down. "You mess with me next time, savvy?" They scramble back into their car, and drive away.

I put the blade away. And look at the car. I turn around then, remembering what happened. I ask, "hey, are you ok? I hope you're not hurt..." I must look so worried and crazy. "No, I'm fine..." Ponyboy says. I'm not though, I feel so dizzy. Behind Pony, I see the rest of the gang staring at me. They must've seen what I did. I hope they like and accept me...That is my last thought and then I faint on the ground as the sky goes gray.

I stir in my sleep. "Hey, wake up, wake up now. It's ok," I hear a familiar voice say. I open my eyes to see Sodapop. "What happened?" I ask him. "You've been asleep for about 5 minutes, that's all." "You sure act tough, huh?" A guy, who I recognize as Steve, says behind him. "Oh sorry, I never introduced myself, but from what I saw, you know my kid brother. I'm Sodapop Curtis. But you can call me Soda." "Steve. Steve Randle." Says Steve bluntly. I look around, and I see everyone from the gang around me. I sit up, realizing I'm in the Curtis home, lying on their couch. Johnny looks at me shyly, and I smile at him. He darts his eyes down. Dallas eyes me carefully, dangerously, but cooly. "So who are ya? You sure aren't afraid of those Socs, but neither am I. We could stomp their heads in! I'm Two-Bit Matthews. Well, Keith, but ain't nobody calls me that." I realize that I have no idea who I am. Who am I? How do I know these people, without even knowing myself? "I'm... I'm..." I look down, noticing that I have a small leather shoulder-strap purse lying at my feet. Quickly, I open it. Hopefully it will have an ID or something. I find a small purple wallet inside. It contains my ID, telling me everything I need to know.

Violet D. Starr

Date of birth: April 14, 1949

Hair color: Blonde (but the ends of mine were dyed a deep blue)

Eye color: gray

I look back up at them, then meet eyes with Dally. "Violet Starr, nice to meet you. So we have Sodapop." I say as I look at him. My eyes scan over the seven of them slowly. "Steve and Two-bit." I say. Next to him is the boy I saved. Pony. Really, though, how did I know these people when I don't even know myself? That thought keeps popping up in my brain.

"I'm Ponyboy Curtis. Thank you for saving me by the way." He talks slowly, almost like he has a southern accent, which none of the other boys do. My gaze shifts to little Johnny. He gulps. "J-Johnny Cade." He whispers. "Yeah, and what you did for Pony sure was brave. Couldn't imagine doing something like that." He looks at me almost with a bit of admiration. I see the scar on his face, and say, "Did they do that to your face?" I already know the answer. "Y-yeah." He stammers. I look at poor little Johnny with an expression of hurt and worry on my face, and reply, "well, as long as I'm with you, that won't ever happen again, I promise. If I'd been there then, it would be me instead. I'll do my best to protect you, all of you if I get the chance." Johnny smiles shyly.

I give a half smile and look to Dally, who eyes me with curiosity now, a cigarette in his mouth. He pulls it out. "Name's Dallas Winston, babe. Call me Dal or Dally, whatever." He smirks and adds, "bet you've heard of me, I got a police record a mile long, maybe longer." He puts the cigarette back in his mouth. The last guy, with blue-green eyes, the oldest, starts. "Yeah, yeah, we know you like to brag. I'm Darrel Curtis, Soda and Pony are my kid brothers. Everyone calls me Darry. By the way, I think we should call your parents, they may be worried."

"Ok nice to know you all, and no need, they don't really care." I lie. I don't exactly remember where my parents are, or who they are. I don't even know where I'm from, to be honest. "How old are you, anyway?" Darry asks. I immediately respond with, "what's the date?" "October 8, 1965. You're in Tulsa, Oklahoma, by the way." answers Ponyboy. Quickly, I do the math and say, "16." "Man, that Soc must've hit you hard, you can't even remember the date. You're a fellow grease. Huh, never seen you before," says Two-bit. How'd he know I was a grease? I look down at my converse, tank top, ripped jeans, and black leather jacket. Oh. I smile and get up to leave. "Where are you going?" asks Soda. "You can stay here a bit longer if you want." "No, it's ok." I begin, "I'm going to the Lot." How did I even know where that was?