Alternate Perspective: First Morning in the Church

By Julia B.

I fell asleep immediately on the cold, stone floor. I suddenly woke up once a moment had passed, and after that, I didn’t sleep a wink. It seemed as if every time I started to drift off, I would get a vivid image of the blood spreading on the pavement or the knife driven into his back. I kept checking on Ponyboy because he was sleeping so soundly that it looked like he was dead. This was not helping to ease my mind at all. I couldn’t believe that I had actually killed someone. Was I a murderer? No. I was quiet Johnny, sullen Johnny.
I put my head back down only to find that the stone was still there and I would have a bump on the back of my head when the sun rose. Maybe the sun wouldn’t rise. Perhaps I would be stuck in this unbearable and impossible state for the rest of my miserable life. It was so easy to take a life. Is my pathetic life even worth taking? Put yourself together Jonny. Snap out of it. Ponyboy needs you.
My head now had a decent lump on it and the sun peeked over the horizon. I wished more than anything that my eyes would close and I could fall into a deep and wonderful sleep, but I couldn’t close my eyes without the fear of seeing the knife or the blood. My eyelids felt as if they had weights on them. I glanced at Ponyboy only to find him gripping his stomach in his sleep. Suddenly overcome with a new mission, the weights were removed from my eyes and I managed to put myself into a sitting position. The paper wouldn’t be out yet. No one would know about what happened last night. I peered out the dirty window and managed to make out a few small lights that must have been town. My stomach grumbled and I set out on my journey.
Every step down the steep hill sent a sharp pain into my ankle. The trip on the train had made me twist my ankle into an uncomfortable position and lying on the stone floor hadn’t helped. I had to take frequent breaks that made my trip much longer. Once I reached the edge of town, the store for food and supplies was not far off. This was a relief because I didn’t think I could walk much longer. The fluorescent lights in the shop gave everything an unusual hue. I got an uneasy feeling in my stomach as if someone was watching me. Then again, I always got that feeling in public. I tried to hurry as I gathered food and basic supplies. I passed the counter and saw that the newspaper hadn’t come yet. I then realized that once it did, people would start to recognize us. I shot back into the aisle to find things for a disguise. There was a bottle of peroxide. My mind went through how Ponyboy would feel if I tried to dye his hair. The scene wasn’t playing out too well, but I had to take a chance. I wandered around for another minute thinking of anything else we might need. I already had playing cards, peroxide, bread, and more than enough bologna. Out of the corner of my eye I got a glimpse of the book shelf. I remembered Ponyboy saying a long time ago how he had always wanted a copy of a book. What was it called, Come with the Breeze? It was something like that. I skimmed the book covers until I found Gone with the Wind. That was it. I felt so accomplished to have found it for him. I paid up with a grin and set out the door.
The hike back up the hill was worse that the walk down, if that was possible. I tried not to take so many breaks because Pony might start worrying. I wondered if Ponyboy liked bologna. I sure hoped so. I always liked that particular meat. A strange noise that sounded like a rusty crank brought me out of my train of thought. I let out a long whistle to let Ponyboy know I was back. A head popped out from the back of the church and it smiled at me.
He didn’t look like he usually did. He was dusty and his hair was mangled. I almost didn’t recognize him, but his grin was unmistakable. Ponyboy hurried me inside and took the bag from my arms. He immediately started emptying the contents of the bag onto the altar very quickly until he came across the copy of Gone with the Wind. His head turned towards me in awe.
“Johnny, how did you know I always wanted one?”
“I dunno, I saw it and I just sorta remembered you talking about it one time.”
Then he started flipping through it. I felt good about making him feel happy. He really needed it.
Once I had finished emptying out all of the bologna, I rubbed my hand over the handle of my blade. I never liked having to stand up to people or make them feel bad. I had to do it though.
“Hey Ponyboy?”
“What is it Johnny?”
“Umm…well,” My hands started sweating and it was suddenly very hot. “I think…”
“Just say it Johnny.”
“We need to go into disguise. I’m gonna cut my hair and I got some peroxide for your hair.” He started to back away from me. I knew he wouldn’t like to ruin that tuff hair. I couldn’t blame him, but it had to be done.