Disclaimer: I do not own the outsiders. It belongs to S.E. Hinton! I only own a few characters. This fan fiction includes themes of drugs, depression, suicidal thoughts, self harm. If you do not do well when it comes to reading theses types of things I suggest you exit right now. You have been warned.

It's your fault!

You killed Johnny and Dally!

They hate your guts!

Kill yourself.

You deserve to die

These are the things that come to my mind everyday. Only thing is I am being told these things. I have voices in my head. I know what you're thinking. I'm crazy. Well, I guess I am.

Johnny and Dally have been dead for four months now. It was after their funerals when I started to hear these voices. They tell me to do things to myself...horrible things. They tell me to take things Darry and Soda would not approve of. I listen to the voices all the time.

I cut. Whenever I think about the time Darry hit me and I ran away, and I took Johnny with me, I go into the bathroom, get my switchblade, and cut. I've been cutting for three months. I love it. I deserve it. It's my punishment for killing everyone. The scars start from the very beginning of my wrist and go all the way up to my shoulder. I always wear long sleeves to cover them. It's like cutting is my hobbie. A joy. Yeah, I'm a freak.

As for drugs: I've smoked grass and joints and crack, popped pills, snorted cocaine and crystal meth, and anything else you can think of. I almost overdosed once. I guess I would be considered a drug addict.

For girls, though, I'm still not really into them. I went out with Cherry for a little while, but it didn't feel like anything. Maybe it's because I'm fourteen and I don't know what love feels like.

The voices tell me things all the time. They told me I'm fat, I'm a loser, a slut, a murderer. All these are true. I don't eat. All my body is, is skin, bone, scars, and a tiny bit of muscle. I have muscular arms and a muscular back,but the rest is all bone.

I shook my head of all my emotions and walked tot he bathroom. Inside the cabinet was my switchblade. I hide it under the rolls of toilet paper. It was stained with blood. I at down and turned on the faucet. I placed the blade on a vein on my wrist that has not been cut yet. I'm surprised I was able to find one. I slide the knife down. It hurt for a little while. The blood came rushing out. I did it to my whole arm. Blood covered it. I rinsed my blood off my arm then wrapped it in toilet paper. Once it was done bleeding I went to my room. I laid on the bed and cried. If I had one wish it would be to go back to the night I ran away. I wouldn't bring Johnny with me so Bob could drown me. That would be a dream come true.

He still would be alive if you would have done that, you stupid little whore! If you would have ran away on your own and show a little bit of bravery you would be dead! Everyone's dream come true! You're worthless Ponyboy Michael Curtis! The voice told me.

''I already know that,'' I said out loud. I tried to fall asleep but it wouldn't come. I heard the front door open. I knew someone was home.

''Soda, you 'ere?'' It was Steve. Soda was working late. I'm shocked Steve didn't see him there. Where else would he have gone? I don't know. Steve is something else.

''Buddy?'' he called again. I pretended to be asleep. I heard him come into my room.

Please go away, I thought.

How about you show him what a coward you are! the voice said.

'' 'At's with all the blood?'' Steve asked himself. Crap! I must have left a little trace behind.

''Kid's probably on his period,'' I heard Steve joke. I heard the voice laugh. I felt Steve get real close by me. ''You're such a faker,'' he said before shaking me. Damn, how did he know? Out of everyone he seems to know when I'm serious and when I'm joking. It's real weird.

''What?'' I asked tiredly.

''Where's Soda?''

''Workin'.''

''He wasn't at the DX.''

''I don't really know where he'd be.''

''Well he better hurry. Were're goin' to the rodeo.'' Steve glared at me. ''Are you gunna tag -along?'' he asked in a deadly voice. He was getting on my nerves.

''Can't. I have plans.''

''Thank God. A night without the kid.''

''Finally, a night without the asshole,'' I said. He looked as if he were about to punch me. I was right. He raised his fists but quickly put them down when he took a closer look at my body.

''Kid, aren't ya gettin' a lil' skinny?''

I looked at my body. I was a bag of bones, not doubt, but I liked it. The voices liked it.

He's only joking. You're a lard ass and you know it. Stevie can't help you.

''No.''

''Look I don't have time for this. Go to McDonald's at get a double cheeseburger or somethin','' Steve said before leaving.

Don't listen to him Pony, only listen to me. That grease ball doesn't know what he's talking about. He'll get you even fatter.

''I know.''

I got out of bed and looked int he mirror. I looked horrible. My bleached blond hair was still short and was falling out a little. Boy I look horrible with short hair. I had dark circles under my eyes from lack of sleep. My face was sunken in. The only thing that looked good was my eyes. They were a dark gray color. Not even the slightest bit of green. I liked it.

I went back to my room and fell asleep with the voices laughing at me.

After I woke up Darry and Soda were home. It was still early and that new Paul Newman movie was still playing so I grabbed my jacket, told them I would be gone,and left.