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I wish I didn't remember what went down that night.
He was stupid to run away, Pony. Darry hit him and it spooked him, I guess. That's the last memory Darry has of Ponyboy. The last time he ever saw him alive was when he was running from him.
We were in the park when we saw the car.
Bob and four others climbed out.
I remember the glint of Bob's silver rings, how the moonlight reflected off of them.
"You're outta your territory," I said, as if that meant anything to them. "You'd better watch it."
"Nope, you're the ones who'd better watch it. Next time you want a broad, pick up your own kind, dirt," one of them, Randy, I think, sneered as he stepped in closer to Ponyboy, kicking his ankle.
"You know what a greaser is?" Bob asked, stepping in closer. "White trash with long hair."
I stayed quiet.
"You know what a soc is?" Pony asked back. "White trash with Mustangs and madras." He spit right in Bob's face.
Out of everything Pony's ever done, that was the stupidest. I almost hate him for it, but I could never hate Ponyboy.
"You know what, greaser? You look like you could use a bath. Give him a bath, David," Bob smiled.
His teeth glinted almost as much as his rings. So as I saw Pony try to make a run for it, I punched him. Wanted to lnock out those pearly whites more than anything.
Bob and two others shoved me to the ground before I got a real chance. I expected them to beat me up, or cut me up, as they had a blade with them.
Instead, they went for Ponyboy.
His head was under the water in the fountain, and I heard him screaming as much as he could despite the water in his lungs.
I remembered the switch.
I didn't think before I did it. I pulled that switchblade out of my back pocket and I stabbed Bob right square in the back. He crumpled. The rest held Pony under that water, still.
"The hell you think you're doing now, Grease?" Randy spat, pushing Ponyboy further under.
His screams stopped.
I held the switch up the Randy's throat, but by then, the rest of the socs realized Bob had died. They ran.
"Ponyboy!" I shouted as I pulled him out from the fountain.
I knew he was dead the moment I felt his cold skin. I placed his body on the ground and fixed up his hair. His eyes were still open. I closed them shut.
Then I collapsed right beside his body and sobbed.
That was the most I had cried in my entire life. Every bone in my body hurt so bad, and it was in that moment I knew I would've rather been jumped by Bob a hundred times than Ponyboy dead.
But I didn't get to pick, and now they're both dead.
I heard the sirens of cop cars and realized I should go. I stared at Ponyboy's body for a moment before taking the pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. It was empty, we'd already smoked them all, so I'm not sure why I took it. I felt like I was going to throw up as I passed Bob's body. Maybe I did, a little. I took his rings without thinking twice.
After that I ran. At first I didn't know where I was headed, I just needed to run. Then I remembered Dally.
I knocked on the door to Buck Merril's house as loud as I could. Once. Twice. Seven times.
Buck opened the door. "What do you want, kid?"
"Dally. Where's Dally?" I asked, already stepping inside, practically yelling.
"He's busy-"
"Where's Dally?!" I screamed louder. I didn't care. I needed Dallas Winston in that moment more than ever. "Tell him it's Johnny and I need him now. He'll come."
Buck stumbled off and I was right. Dally came.
"Are you good, kid?" he asked me once he saw me, his voice gentler than I'd ever heard it.
I realized I was shaking, and cold, and my hands still had a little blood on them and I still had my switch in my hand.
"Dallas..." I breathed, then practically fell into his arms.
Dally carried me upstairs and into an empty bedroom. I sat on the bed and he stood across from me.
"Johnny, what the hell happened?!" he asked me, fear flooding his eyes. That's the only time to this day I ever saw Dallas Winston looking scared.
"Ponyboy... he..." I couldn't get the words out before crying all over again. But when I saw Dally's eyes widen, I think he got the gist.
I told him the story between sobs, trembling the whole time. At some point he'd climbed onto the bed and wrapped me in his arms.
"You'll be okay, Johnny," Dally told me, ruffling my hair. "Did you see the cops?"
"Once I'd already been running for a good bit, I saw them driving. They don't know I was there."
Dally nodded. "Good. It's alright Johnny, you're alright."
I was anything but alright, yet I appreciated the words anyway. Dally let me sleep there for the night. I was too tired to get up and go anywhere else, anyway.
The next day I slept. Dally stayed with me most of the day. Buck came and the two yelled at each other for a little. I tried to smoke but couldn't. I didn't want anything to eat.
I ended up in a cycle of sleeping, waking up and sobbing, pressing my switch to my wrist under the blanket, and going back to bed. This lasted the entire day.
I woke up the day after that to find Dally playing with my hair. He stopped once he saw me awake.
"You feeling any better, Johnny?" Dally asked. I noticed it wasn't just him in the room. The whole gang was there: Darry with bags under his eyes and stained clothes on, Soda broken down in the corner, Steve attempting to comfort him, Two-Bit with a bottle in each hand.
"A little," I lied. I could still feel Pony's frozen skin under my fingertips.
"We're all going to go get lunch," Dally stated, talking to everyone in the room. "The cops don't know Johnny was there. That means he ain't in trouble and none of us are in trouble. We go back to living."
Even as he spoke as if he'd moved on, I knew he hadn't. I saw the emptiness in his eyes. If it weren't for me, I'm not so sure he wouldn't have went and killed himself right then and there.
Ponyboy's funeral was a couple days later. None of us had fancy clothes, so we just wore whatever, really. Pony wouldn't have cared.
A few people turned up besides our gang. Cherry and Marcia came, plus a couple kids from Pony's track team. Some of his cousins from out of town turned up, too.
He was buried next to his parents. I hope I'm not buried next to my parents one day. Maybe in my will, people write those, right? I'll write that I want to be buried right next to Pony. He was much more family to me than my parents have ever been.
I'm writing this at Ponyboy's desk, which we have moved into the living room as Soda refuses to come out of their previously shared room and desks are important. We've all been staying at the Curtis house. I don't know if we'll be able to stay here forever, but part of me hopes so. We can all stay here until we're able to move out of Tulsa. Ha, I'm talking as if that's ever going to happen.
Every night at sunset, I go outside and watch it. The gang thinks I'm crazy, but Ponyboy liked that kind of stuff.