I woke up at home, on the couch. Darry and Sodapop were hovering over me, blotting my face with a wet towel... It was wet... With a dark red liquid... Blood.

I could hear Ponyboy crying in the corner, being comforted by Johnny. Two-bit and Steve were pacing. Dally... Was gone... Where is he?

"She's waking up." Darry whispered, taping Sodapop's arm. I wheezed at the pain. I felt light headed... I must have lost a lot of blood.

Darry put his hand on my forehead, checking my temperature. "Ashley..." he said in a pleading voice. "What happened to you?"

"I-I..." I managed to say.

"Dallas..." Steve moaned. He had a huge gash on his cheek. "It was Dallas..."

Darry looked at me, as if he was about to cry. "Is that true?..." he asked.

"No!" Two-bit yelled, nearly weeping. "It was MY fault. I said that we should go to that club, the five of us. I didn't know Dallas would be there!... And he hurt her... And it was my fault..." He looked at me. "...I hurt her..." he said, his voice cracking.

I tried to reassure him that it wasn't his fault, but Sodapop put his hand over my mouth. "It's Dally's fault..." Sodapop said in the deepest, most serious voice I've ever heard him speak in.
"...That... loser... hurt my sister..." he continued, looking at me. "... Now... I hurt him..." He gripped one hand into a fist and walked out the door, ready to destroy Dallas Winston... And I didn't stop him... I went back to sleep.

When I woke up, again, I was in my room. I had 5 jackets lying on top of me. One was Ponyboy's favorite green jacket that I got him for his birthday a few years back. I got it for him because it brought out his green eyes. I loved his green eyes. The second jacket was Johnny's famous jean jacket. He always wears it. The third and fourth jackets were Two-bit and Steve's leather jackets. Steve's jacket was smothered in gasoline and Two-bits smelled like beer, but it was the thought that counts. The last jacket was Darry's. It was his varsity jacket from high school football. It was his favorite. He always wears it.

I pulled a few jackets off of me and put them on the chair beside my bed. I looked around the room and saw a little kid, a boy, crying his eyes out. I felt bad for the kid. He had scars all over his body... He was bleeding all over the place. I wanted to comfort the poor kid. I sat up and he saw me...

I looked into his big blue eyes. They poured into my eyes... I didn't feel bad for him anymore...