I've been trapped in this place for a day or two, now. I think it might be a cellar or, more likely, a storm shelter. They killed Johnny- dark eyed, gang's pet, Johnny Cade. I'm starting to lose hope that anyone will ever find me, and it makes me sick; it does, but I should let you know. Johnny is here with me.

I still watch sunsets now, but it's because it reminds me of innocence I was once held. I learned of the innocence, I learned of how good we had it when Darry hit me, when I ran away, when the church caught on fire, when Johnny died and Dally followed. Just because something is painted golden doesn't make it gold.

Choices are everywhere, and we have to make them for every single move we make or else we will never move forward. I can't live in a stalemate my whole life, and I can't count every possibility in the world. I can't cheat life. No one can. The only thing I am able to do is help with what I can and hope for the best with what I can't.

I had lived it several times now. First, a piece of nail, a piece of my life, gets ripped away, gripping me with shock. It seems as if everything ruined. It seems like the only thing keeping me together, until time passes on. Until I blink. Until someone comes along and pulls me from the quicksand.

I got in front of the room where I was supposed to speak to this group of people who would determine whether or not I should get the scholarship, but I don't know what happened. My words that I had poured over the night before suddenly didn't feel right- didn't feel true. If they really wanted to know why I wanted the scholarship, who was I to feed them crap?

I remember looking back as Johnny and I walked up Jay Mountain and getting that feeling like someone is watching you. Two or three times, I even saw a flash of blue jean, heard a rustle. I guess I should have used my head because now I've been condemned to a life of silence about what happened later that day, and there's not a damned thing I can do about it.

The Fuzz may be cops, but they aren't heartless. This is the reflection from the point of view of the policeman who killed Dally. Minor cussing.

I'm not just the brother anymore. I'm the parent, and I can't ever let myself forget it again. -My take on what might have been running through Darry's head after he hit Ponyboy. Minor cussing.

And with that simple motion, all was impaired.