I rushed into my room and plopped on my giường throwing my sách at my desk, my aiming was perfect .... almost. A bunch of papers spewed unto my floor. Groaning i got up from where i lay only a few measly giây and went to pick up the papers. They were mostly school papers from last năm i didnt care about. I tossed them into the wire trashcan sitting tiếp theo to my bàn carelessly. I picked up the last thing on the ground, a yelow tore up folder that looked flamiliar. I opened it ciriously and those words i worked so hard on last năm flashed before my eyes- when i stepped into the brightness from the darkness of the movie house....
I shut it quickly! i didnt want to remember. Not after a good ngày at school. Not after the pretties blonde i had ever laid hands on smiled at me. Not after darry and I went a ngày without quarrelling. I didnt want to remember now..not ever.
bởi the way.. My name is Ponyboy, ponyboy curtis. HOw rude of me not to say that first. YOu might of heard of me....but probably not. I dont get around much. Just the gang. And two of them are dead now. Dally..his tim, trái tim was in the wrong place at the wrong time and his crazy wittyness finally got him killed. shot-right before my eyes too. JOhnny... the Mất tích small boy with puppydog eyes and not much will to survive before it was too late... We saved a bunch of kids from a ngọn lửa, chữa cháy in a burning church,with Dallys help of course. HE got burned the worse, hot wood fell unto his back breaking it. He died at the tender age of sixteen..with noone to tình yêu him except us. Not even his parents. Enouth about them. i need to stop living in the past..and look phía trước, chuyển tiếp to the furure. Whatever that may be. bạn dont get much from being a greaser. Were stupid and poor and trash. Even darry who was smart and active..he didnt get anywhere. He gets to roof houses for a living . BUt that dosent matter either. Soda is a highschool dropout... but he is one of the most special people i will ever know.Because he can make me laugh...and thats twice as good as success and money.
I dont really know what god has in mind for me. Im not strong and practical like Darry. Im not funny and handsome like Sodapop. Im not innoncent and delicate like johnny.Im not careless and tough like dally was. Im not funny like Twobit. hoặc good at working on cars with steve hoặc good with girls. Im jsut ponyboy.Im sensitive and i dig sunsets and like đọc books. That dosent mkae me nothin'. So maybe i am nothing and i always will be. BUt thats beyond the point too. Well instead of focusing on what im not and my past..why dont we focus on the future. Yes, that sounds like a plan to me.....
I shut it quickly! i didnt want to remember. Not after a good ngày at school. Not after the pretties blonde i had ever laid hands on smiled at me. Not after darry and I went a ngày without quarrelling. I didnt want to remember now..not ever.
bởi the way.. My name is Ponyboy, ponyboy curtis. HOw rude of me not to say that first. YOu might of heard of me....but probably not. I dont get around much. Just the gang. And two of them are dead now. Dally..his tim, trái tim was in the wrong place at the wrong time and his crazy wittyness finally got him killed. shot-right before my eyes too. JOhnny... the Mất tích small boy with puppydog eyes and not much will to survive before it was too late... We saved a bunch of kids from a ngọn lửa, chữa cháy in a burning church,with Dallys help of course. HE got burned the worse, hot wood fell unto his back breaking it. He died at the tender age of sixteen..with noone to tình yêu him except us. Not even his parents. Enouth about them. i need to stop living in the past..and look phía trước, chuyển tiếp to the furure. Whatever that may be. bạn dont get much from being a greaser. Were stupid and poor and trash. Even darry who was smart and active..he didnt get anywhere. He gets to roof houses for a living . BUt that dosent matter either. Soda is a highschool dropout... but he is one of the most special people i will ever know.Because he can make me laugh...and thats twice as good as success and money.
I dont really know what god has in mind for me. Im not strong and practical like Darry. Im not funny and handsome like Sodapop. Im not innoncent and delicate like johnny.Im not careless and tough like dally was. Im not funny like Twobit. hoặc good at working on cars with steve hoặc good with girls. Im jsut ponyboy.Im sensitive and i dig sunsets and like đọc books. That dosent mkae me nothin'. So maybe i am nothing and i always will be. BUt thats beyond the point too. Well instead of focusing on what im not and my past..why dont we focus on the future. Yes, that sounds like a plan to me.....
Ponyboy’s Perspective
“Dad?”
“Yeah, Scar?” I say, looking away from the football game I was watching. I was holding Ella, she was 4 months old now.
“How did bạn and Mom meet?” The 12 năm old asked.
“I bet it was an epic tình yêu story.” Eight năm old Rhett says sarcastically.
“Was Mommy pretty when bạn met her?” Charlie, who was five now, asked.
“The prettiest girl I’d ever seen.” I smiled down at him. “Until Scar and Ella came along. Now I know the three prettiest girls in the world. Anyways, there’s not much to tell. I saw her one day, and I fell in love. I thought she didn’t like me…”
“Nah, I like bạn a lot.” (Y/N) grinned from the doorway.
Seventeen.
Seventeen bottles of bia I have drunk in the past 37 minutes.
Seventeen.
I pick up number eighteen, twist the mũ lưỡi trai, cap off, and pour it down my throat. It’s tasteless.
I lean my head back against the tường from where I sit on the floor of my basement.
I see a football. Danny’s football. It used to be Danny’s football. Now it’s just some football my son used to hold, used to play with. It probably smelled like him. Part of me wanted to go pick it up, the other part of me didn’t wanted to be reminded of the last time we played football together.
I pick up number nineteen, and out of the corner of my eye see (Y/N)’s old dolls, something we thought we could use for our little girl someday.
But that’s not going to happen.
I know what happened. I saw their mangled, bruised, broken, dead bodies after their accident.
I pick up number twenty.
Oh God how was I going to say this.
The rest of my life depended on this.
She was just perfect. In every way possible. She was beautiful. Kind. Sweet. Funny. Understanding. Just (Y/N).
And I needed to tell her.
Tell her how much I needed her, wanted her, and had to have her. It was a feeling beyond comprehension. It was love.
I needed to tell her I loved her.
So here I am, sitting in the lot, looking at the stars with (Y/N). Doing something I tình yêu with the one I love.
I look over at her, her eyes gleaming from the light of the fire.
“(Y/N)?” I ask as I grab her hand.
“Yeah?” She turns to face me.
“I-I think…” I start.
“Just say it,” she smiles.
“I tình yêu you.” I blurt out.
She looks surprised for a second. But then she grins.
“I tình yêu bạn too.”
“This was my mom’s,” he mutters. “(Y/N) (Y/L/N), will bạn marry me?”
