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“Johnny how do you think this looks?” You ask, holding up a black dress to you.
“How am I supposed to know?” He groans as he leans on one of the shelves of the department store.
“Well, would I look good in it?” You ask, twirling the dress around.
“You’d look good in any clothes, honey.” He smiles at you.
“Any clothes?” You ask, scrunching your nose.
“But you also look good in no clothes, if that’s what you want to know,” he grins at you like a little kid. “So could you hurry up so I could see my favorite outfit on you?”
“Johnny how do you think this looks?” You ask, holding up a black dress to you.
“How am I supposed to know?” He groans as he leans on one of the shelves of the department store.
“Well, would I look good in it?” You ask, twirling the dress around.
“You’d look good in any clothes, honey.” He smiles at you.
“Any clothes?” You ask, scrunching your nose.
“But you also look good in no clothes, if that’s what you want to know,” he grins at you like a little kid. “So could you hurry up so I could see my favorite outfit on you?”
“Are you crying?” You ask as he walks in.
“No.” He mutters, wiping his eyes on his sleeve.
“Yes you are, you big softie,” Ponyboy grins.
“Is she all ok?” Soda asks, still sniffling.
“Yes, she’s in perfect condition.” The doctor grins. ” 6 pounds, 9 ounces. You want to hold her?” He asks Soda.
Soda just nods his head. The doctor hands him the baby.
(OK INSERT SODA BABY IMAGINE HERE TO GET SODA FEELINGS)
Soda just smiles.
“Hey, Grace.” He says softly. “Hey.”
“She looks like you.” Ponyboy says to you as he looks over Soda’s shoulder at his niece.
“Pretty, just like her mom.” Soda glances at you.
I had it all ready.
My parents wouldn’t care.
It would be a blessing for me to be gone.
I take a deep breath and take a final look in the mirror. My dark skin. Even darker eyes. The black hair I could never keep back. The scar on my cheek.
I run a hand through my hair, exhale, and open the mirror to see the different bottles of pills glaring at me; tempting me.
It would hurt the least. Less than the blade. But it might take longer. The rope would be quicker.
I reach for a bottle, twist the cap, and pour a few pills in my hand. I take another bottle and do the same.
I take a look at the drugs in my hand. I sigh, tilt my head back, and drop the pills in my mouth.
“JOHNNY!” I heard my drunk mother screech.
I spit the pills back into my hands.
I wouldn’t do this in front of my mother. Even though she was awful, she still is my mom. Im still her son.
My parents wouldn’t care.
It would be a blessing for me to be gone.
I take a deep breath and take a final look in the mirror. My dark skin. Even darker eyes. The black hair I could never keep back. The scar on my cheek.
I run a hand through my hair, exhale, and open the mirror to see the different bottles of pills glaring at me; tempting me.
It would hurt the least. Less than the blade. But it might take longer. The rope would be quicker.
I reach for a bottle, twist the cap, and pour a few pills in my hand. I take another bottle and do the same.
I take a look at the drugs in my hand. I sigh, tilt my head back, and drop the pills in my mouth.
“JOHNNY!” I heard my drunk mother screech.
I spit the pills back into my hands.
I wouldn’t do this in front of my mother. Even though she was awful, she still is my mom. Im still her son.
“Oh?” You ask.
“Yeah… Uh you know.” He shrugs.
“I don’t know,” you laugh.
“You’ll see,” he grins.
You walk into his room, and your jaw drops.
Your panties were all on his floor.
“Oh my god Dally!” You say.
“You obviously didn’t get the message.” He says laughing.
You look closer at the piles of your underwear. It spells out “PROM?”
“Oh my god,” you laugh.
“Is that a yes?” He grins.
“Yes!” You say still laughing.
“I just need you to help me out with something…”
“What?” You ask.
“I’m missing the dot under the question mark…”