Work Text:
As I sat alone in the lot, staring up at the stars, I began to shiver as snowflakes gently descend to the ground and on my face. I started a small fire with pieces of trash I found around the area. Despite the fire, I continued to freeze half to death. The stars were shining and as plentiful as ever. I would never admit it out loud, but stars hold a special place in my life. Their light, traveling as fast as it can, only to sometimes not even manage to make it to earth before fizzling out and taking its last breath.
The only person I can talk to about stars is my friend Ponyboy. I don’t even know if Pony cares as much about me as I do him, but he really digs sunsets and books ‘n stuff. He’s my closest friend besides Dallas. Dally sees me as a kid brother of sorts. Or, at least, that’s what he told me one time. I don’t exactly know why he seems to look out for me in particular but he does, and I don’t mind. He doesn’t get sunsets, stars, flowers, or anything of the sorts. He never talks about his feelings at all. I don’t think any of the guys other than Pony and I even stop to notice a sunset. I can’t talk to any of them about any hopes or dreams of mine. Not that I really have any in the first place. My whole life, I feel like I’ve been searching for something—anything to make up for all my time spent suffering and I still don’t even know what that is. Perhaps a train ticket to somewhere far away from this town.
The snow continued to pile up on top on the preexisting sheet of white fluff. I was surprised my little fire had still managed to stay ignited despite the snow falling down. It was so quiet outside. More quiet than usual. If I closed my eyes and listened carefully, I could just barely hear the faint sounds of Christmas music playing on someone’s radio. If I walked up to any of these houses, I would find children laying on a living room floor, watching television specials as their parents cleaned up after a Christmas supper. They probably served chicken fried steak with biscuits ‘n Cola. Maybe porkbutt or mashed potatoes, or an ice cold sweet tea and—
Oh god, just thinking about food is making my stomach cry out.
I wondered if I could go see what the Curtis’ were up to, but, I don’t ever want to feel like a burden to them. I know they tell me I can stop in whenever, but I just don’t feel like I should, y’know? I feel like they’re just saying that cos of Dally. Or they’re only saying that so I don’t get jumped again by any socs. Maybe they know I don’t feel welcome. Maybe they’re all conspiring against me and hate me, but don’t hate me enough to completely cut me off from the rest of the gang.
As I spiraled, I began pulling on my cracked lips. Man are my lips chapped. I had developed this habit of taking my index finger and my thumb to my bottom lip and squeezing it until it felt numb. I know it sounds disgusting but it works to calm me down.
I used to chew on my nails a lot. I also did other semi gross nervous ticks to help ease my excess worry. I would pull on a strand of hair, twisting it until the grease was practically gone, bite the inside of my gums, and pop my fingers all the time. Dally told me I looked like a crack addict when I did those things so I stopped. Pony told me to quit popping my joints like that cos it freaks him out. Anytime I’d spend the night with him while Soda worked late, I’d crack my back before going to bed with him and he recoiled in disgust. When I asked him what was wrong, he told me how much he despised that sound ‘n he’d tell me how it sounds like I snapped my lower back into two separate pieces.
I should go to their place right about now.
The snow was falling faster and harder. What was once so gracious and soft, swiftly morphed into a harsher rain of white petal-like snow zooming towards the ground. It began to cover up the fire, putting it out. Suddenly, I was shrouded in darkness, the only things illuminating my way to the Curtis household were street lights and the Christmas lights that hung from certain people’s roofs. I trudged through the winter cold, trying to ignore the dampened fabric in my raggedy black sneakers from the packed snow on the streets. As I walked, my mind began to wonder.
I understood that Christmas was supposed to be the happiest time of the year, but it never really worked out like that for me. Definitely not with my lousy parents who would rather raise me with fists and have screaming matches with each other. Maybe back when Mr and Mrs Curtis were still alive I felt the warmth of Christmas, but that was then and this is now.
Honestly it’s not even that big of a deal to me. I hate myself on Christmas and wish I was never born, but it’s not any different from how I feel on Tuesdays, or when I walk past the school. I feel no different than on warm nights in June, or on my birthday, or any other particular day out of the year. I always feel so empty, like maybe I shouldn’t even be here in the first place.
I finally reached the Curtis’ patio and I knocked on their old door, my breath visible in the crisp air. I waited for a moment before Darry opened the door. He seemed surprised and quickly ushered me inside. When I walked through the door, Darry began asking me if I needed anything and offered me a warm blanket and milk. I accepted, awkwardly maneuvering my way towards where the couch rested. I looked over and saw the gang all laying around the television watching a Mickey Mouse Christmas special.
Pony was the first to notice me and waved a hand, inviting me to stay next to him. I looked back out through the smudged window onto the dark winter night and turned back to Ponyboy. If I had froze to death out there I knew that his smile could’ve easily thawed me back to life. I scurried toward him as the rest of the boys noticed my presence and greeted me. Pony lightly punched my arm and continued watching the film.
Maybe this is what I wanted all along.