R.I.P Johnny Cade and Dallas Winston

               YO, I'm back, and this time I'd like this blog to be dedicated to Johnny Cade and Dallas Winston. We had beaten the Socs in the rumble, but I was beaten up pretty badly. I got kicked in the head and had a bunch of bruises, but the adrenaline masked the pain. I had learned why our gang liked to fight. Steve fought because of his hatred for the world, Soda for adrenaline, Darry for pride, but for me... I didn't know why I fought. Our whole gang was pretty happy that we won, but Dally dragged me to go see Johnny. He told me to hurry up because Johnny was getting worst and he wanted to see me.

           

            We were obviously speeding, but under our circumstances, I was fine with it until I heard a siren behind us. I could see red and blue through the windshield in a blur. Dally told me to look sick, so I tilted my head to the freezing cold glass and closed my eyes. The police officer asked why we were driving so fast and Dally lied and said I had fallen off my bike and he was taking me to the hospital.  I could hear the officer change his tone and asked if we needed an escort.

           

             We got to the hospital with the escort and rushed to Johnny's room. There was no time to waste, Johnny might only have a few minutes left. When we went into Johnny's room, Dally swallowed, and tried to keep his breathing steady, but it wasn't working.

            

               Dally raved about us beating the Socs in the rumble, but Johnny didn't even smile. I could remember what he said so clearly because I couldn't agree more. He just said in a monotone voice, "Useless... fighting's no good...." When he said that I thought, He's right. Fighting won't do anything because Socs will still be Socs and Greasers will still be Greaser. Dally was trying so hard to get Johnny to be happy, but it was a failed attempt. Then Dally finally said, "We're all proud of you, buddy." Johnny's eyes had a glint in them... Dally, his idol, was proud of him. That was all Johnny ever wanted.
   

            "Stay gold, Ponyboy. Stay gold..." then Johnny died peacefully. His last words... what did they mean. I couldn't wrap my head around it

            Dally was going to blow. The only thing he ever loved just died and he couldn't handle it. He bolted out the room and rammed down the hall.
     
             I got a ride home from a nice guy who was driving by and found out that Dally robbed a store. He was being chased by the fuzz, so we went to meet him at the lot, but when we got there, we saw Dally raise his gun, and I thought: You blasted fool. They don't know you're only bluffing. And even as the policemen's guns spit fire into the night I knew that was what Dally wanted. He was jerked half around by the impact of the bullets, then slowly crumpled with a look of grim triumph on his face. He was dead before he hit the ground. But I knew that was what he wanted, even as the lot echoed with the cracks of shots, even as I begged silently--- Please, not him... not him and Johnny both ---I knew he would be dead, because Dally Winston wanted to be dead and he always got what he wanted. Two of my friends died that night. One died a hero, the other died a fool.
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