Based off of the Book, The Outsiders, by S.E. Hinton
This is my very first attempt at Fan Fiction. If you see any mistakes, or have any suggestions, please let me know. Thanks,
Chapter 1: Please (Darry's Point of View)
"Are you mad at me?" He asks, pulling me out of my trance. I look down at the pale and shaky man in the hospital bed. His eyes are glazed over with some kind of sadness I've never seen before. His face is bruised and his body is fragile, fighting with the whiteness of the sheets. I remember when he used to be strong and stern and brilliant. When he would lift me up on his shoulders so I could see the men in football jerseys scattering amongst the field. This man wasn't my father. He was shriveled heartache in my father's body.
"No, I'm not mad at you." I answer. Of course that's a lie. Of course I'm mad at him. How could I not be? Him keeping something like this from me. I feel like I should have known. Like I should have caught on. Like it didn't matter if I didn't, because he should have told me. I was his son. I am his son. There's no 'was' about it.
"I didn't tell you, because your mother-" He says, reading my mind. He chokes up at the mention of my mom. I can't blame him. I simply find it odd how two syllables can strangle you up so badly. "She didn't want me to tell." He finishes. I nod, pretending like I understand. Pretending like I understand anything that's been going on for the past few days.
"She said, it'd be too hard on you guys. She said…." He states, grimacing. I'm not sure if it's from the pain or from the memory, or both. But I listen. I listen, not having anything else to do. "She said she'd just go away for a while. She'd leave when it got obvious, and come back once it was over. She didn't want to hurt any of you. But we just weren't ready. We just couldn't handle another child."
I wipe the sweat from my palms on my jeans and continue to stare at the helpless man before me. It's freezing in the hospital, made worse by the bland nature of it, but I'm so angry I could burst. I feel like bursting too, into a million pieces and scattering all over the tile floor. But I can't. My father needs me. He's hurt. He's dying. And he needs me.
"We were going to tell you. Honest we were. But then this accident happened and now…now I'll never know my son. Darry." He says, stating my name for the first time in a while. "Please find him. Please."
Please. That was the last thing he ever said to me. Please. How could I hear those words, see his face, and not promise that I would? But I didn't. I promised nothing. Not aloud anyways. But in my head, I made a secret vow. A vow to find this kid. This brother I never knew.