The Outsiders Imagines

The Gang: Never Met

⚠️Content Warning: Sexual Assault⚠️

You were just about to round the corner to meet all the guys at the drive-in, when you heard Steve.

"Way to go brat, you just had to go on and invite her."

"Well, what was I supposed to do?"

Dallas this time spoke, "Give her the slip? Something, anything to get rid of her."

The air filled with silence for a moment before Steve spoke up again. "Let's all just admit that (Y/N) drives us absolutely crazy and that we don't want her around us. It was alright in the beginin' but I can only feel sorry for her for so long. Think it's safe to say we're all at our limit."

There was a quiet murmur of agreement from the gang.

Out of the corner of your eye your saw Two-bit take a swig of beer, "And if we're being honest," he spoke, "None of us really liked her any how. Too loud and obnoxious; can't get her to shut up so you can get a word in"

"Really?" Soda was surprised, "Cause I can't get her to say a word, it's tiring; always feelin' like I'm talking to myself - may as well be."

"Its like an act she puts on to impress us or something, depending on who she's with, " Darry added.

"Yeah, well I can't do it no more, she's a pain in the ass. Only reason we're stuck with her is cause this little shit," he pointed at Ponyboy, "pitied her, then made us all stuck with her."

There was another agreeing murmur from the boys, before they gave up on you meeting them. You watched them walk into the movie while you tiptoed backwards a few steps- trying not to be seen by them, and turned around and headed for the vacant lot.

On your way, keeping your eyes downcast, you heard a familiar rumble of a car engine. You shoved your hands further in your pockets, hoping they wouldn't see you. Alas, fate was never on your side as a blue mustang pulled in front of you, blocking your way. Stopped in your tracks, you inconspicuously take the blade out from your back pocket as five soc boys step out of the car.

"Well, well, look what we have here," he proclaimed. Even from there you could smell the alcohol on their breath; you could see it in their eyes they were drunk. Telling by the look on their faces, you knew something bad was going to go down. The boys began to form a circle around you so you couldn't escape. Five to one, not a fair fight, but you weren't one to back down.

Another joined in, "What's a pretty little thing like you doing being a nasty greaser anyway?"

"More importantly," a third one chimed, "how pretty are you under all those clothes," he held a perverted smile on his face. It was sick and depraved. You instantly knew and your stomach dropped. He nodded to the one behind you and before you knew it, he had your shoulders pinned to the ground with his knees. You kicked and flailed you legs hoping to get out but it was in vain as another one sat down on your legs. You never stopped screaming, praying like hell anybody could hear you.

"Man, someone shut her up!" You saw another boy hand the one that yelled that a rag, feeling it being shoved into your mouth - your screams now silenced. You could feel a cold piece of metal sliding across your throat and down your neck making it's way to your shirt.

"Now," he breathed your ear, "Let's see what you've been hiding underneath these clothes, ya filthy greaser."

After he had cut your shirt the rest was a blur, you knew what happened and all you wanted was to forget, but you can't. You can't forget the twisted smiles, the depraved way they stole innocence. You can't forget the violence; the way they took turns violating your entire being.

The cuts and bruises, which you had plenty everywhere, will heal but the emotional turmoil you'll forever live with will never heal. Your throat had a decent, superficial cut, one of your legs was banged up after they beat you when they were done, your knuckles were busted open and bloody from trying to fight, you had a black eye, your nose was bleeding, and you knew a couple ribs were cracked.

Looking down at your tattered shirt, you zipped up your sweatshirt, thanking god that was in one peace, and looked down at your pants. Noticing a couple big holes, a lot of dirt, and some blood; you didn't care, your sweatshirt was long enough to cover them okay, so if someone saw you they wouldn't know. Reaching in, you grabbed what was left of your cigarettes and found one that wasn't broke and lit it. Inhaling the smoke, you felt tears roll down your face.

The boys laughed as they walked back home from the movie, but it didn't last long when they saw you. Even from there they could see the tears;they never had seen you cry before, they knew something was bad. It didn't take long for them to be there.

"(Y/N), what happ-,"

You cut Soda off, "Don't worry 'bout it. Y'all don't have to sit here and pretend to care."

They all gave you a confused look. "Don't play dumb," you continued, "I heard what you said about me. That none of y'all want me here, so I'll save you the trouble."

You hoisted yourself up on your feet, everything about you hurting, making you almost fall over. You limped a couple feet away from them and turned around, "If I see you guys around town, just know that I ain't gonna say hi or nothing, I expect you to do the same to me. Like we never met, okay."

You didn't give them a chance to answer as you limped your way to God only knows where, tears escaping harder knowing that that night you not only lost your innocence, but you lost a gang you thought were your friends.