This applies to this chapter and any future chapters.

Any sentences, characters, places, etc that are from the novel "The Outsiders" belong to S.E. Hinton. They are not, never have been, and never will be mine. I receive no money, or other goods for writing this story.

Ok, chapter one redone, more to come soon.

As I stepped into the bright sunlight from the darkness of the movie house, I had only two things on my mind: Paul Newman and a ride home. I was wishing I looked like Paul Newman-he looks tough and I don't-but I guess my own looks aren't so bad. I have light-brown, almost-red hair and greenish-grey eyes. I wish they were more grey, because I hate most guys that have green eyes, but I have to be content with what I have. My hair is longer than a lot of boys wear theirs, squared off in back and long at the front and sides, but I am a greaser and most of my neighbourhood rarely bothers to get a haircut. Besides I look better with long hair. I had a long walk home and no company, normally I like walking alone but I had a bad feeling about it today.

I had just decided that I definitely didn't want to walk home alone today, and was headed for the payphone down the street when two things happened so fast it still makes my head spin thinking about it. Sirens ripped through the domestic silence as a cop car came screeching around the corner. This caused the blue mustang, which had been slowly cruising down the street, to take off faster than I could blink. Then my world tilted backwards as I was pulled into the alley I had stopped in front of.

I yelped and struggled to fight the hands that were suddenly all over me. They were pushing me down, hitting me, pulling at my arms and legs and holding me to the ground. There were too many of them and I was having trouble fighting back. Some of the hands were grabbing at my clothes and they would brush fleetingly against my groin. I didn't fully register that until later because I was concentrating on the beating they were giving me. The fists and kicks were coming thick and fast. Though most of them didn't have a lot of force behind them I could feel some of the damage done to my body already.

"Shut him up Rod! Shut him up!" someone said off to my left.

I was yelling something fierce by now, and occasionally getting an arm or leg loose enough to hit someone, but there were about two guys holding me down to every one hurting or touching me. I was getting slugged and kicked far more often than I was getting loose. I'd about decided to try grabbing the next limb that came at me and biting, when something hit my head. For one scary minute I was hovering between awareness and unconsciousness. Two things brought me back to what was happening. Two things that made me more scared than I'd been in a long time.

The first were words that didn't make sense until the second thing happened.

"Damn he's pretty. Even with the bruises starting to show." One voice said.

"Keep him still while I do this and you can take him after me. The boss doesn't care what we do, so long as he's alive and in one piece." Another replied.

The words were coupled with the realization that my jeans were undone and there was a hand reaching down the back of my boxers. Just as the questing fingers found their way between my butt cheeks I managed to get free completely. I was up and running before I knew what I was doing, and by the time I was at the end of the alley I had managed to get my jeans done up without breaking my pace. I rounded the corner, making my way towards home without watching where I was going or looking behind me. As I was running I thought I heard my name being called but all I could think about was trying to get away from the pounding footsteps following me. I sped up, almost sprinting when the lot came into sight.

My ribs were burning from the pace I was setting myself. Oddly enough, I thought at that moment that if I ran like this at track we'd never lose again. I was at the lot before I came back to myself, though I only stopped running when I tripped over something… make that someone. I somersaulted over the prone body of my best friend and sat there stunned for a moment.

"Johnny!" I cried out between gasps of air.

"Damn Ponyboy! That hurt!" he stopped after getting a good look at me. "Jeez Pony! What the hell happened to you! Your shirts torn, jeezus you're bleeding!"

Before I could answer I heard the sound of running behind me. Johnny didn't look scared but I was too terrified to stay and find out just who was behind me. I jumped up and was about to grab Johnny so we could run, when I felt arms wrap around me from behind. My mind went white with terror as I yelled and thrashed around out of instinct. 'No! I wouldn't let it happen again!' But as much as I struggled the vice like arms continued to hold me close. A familiar voice soothed nonsense in my ear, as it had a few times after really bad nightmares, and I slowed down long enough to realize who it was that was holding me. Darry.

A new fear took over my mind then, not that I was truly afraid of my oldest brother. I was scared of what he and everyone else would think of me when they found out what had happened.

Ok, a lot more description than before. I hope after all these years I'm a better writer than before. I'm sorry for my long absence, I have no excuse. Time and my muse got well and truly away from me. I do hope I haven't annoyed people too too much.