Alternate Ending To Ponyboys Monologue

My eyes widened as incoherent words spilled out of my mouth, begging, "please, don't shoot! It ain't loaded!" but to no avail. I saw Dally go down, a crumpled heap; desperate, violent, and suffering, the way every hoodlum went out, just the way I had always hoped that Dallas could avoid.

I could hear Two-Bit's voice next to me, wild and panicked, but I couldn't make out the words. I felt like I couldn't move. Suddenly, I saw Ponyboy swaying unsteadily on his feet before he hit the ground with a sickening smack.

I found myself on my knees next to him in an instant, brushing the hair from his eyes while Sodapop yelled desperately for someone to call an ambulance.

"Ponyboy? Come on, Ponyboy, wake up. I know you can hear me," I begged, but like the last time I begged, no one listened. Ponyboy stayed
Ponyboy won't end up like that. He's fine.

If he's fine why is he here? My mind argued. Fed up with my internal, unhelpful monologue, I stepped into Ponyboy's room, and the sight of him made my heart drop to the floor. Machines were hooked up to him, checking his heart rate and other things that I didn't even know. He looked so young, but he always looked young when he slept. But I couldn't pretend he was sleeping. There was too much blood soaked into the bandage that went around his head to pretend anything.

"Hey, Ponyboy," I whispered softly, surprised at the sound of my own voice. I wasn't sure I could even will myself to talk, but somehow, I kept talking. Whispering to someone who probably couldn't hear me, but it didn't matter. I hoped my little brother knew I was there for him, after everything that had happened.

OoOoOoO

"No, no bologna. I hate bologna," were the first words that Ponyboy spoke after fourteen hours. His eyes were glossed over and red, so we knew he was out of it, but to see him semiconscious gave me a small flicker of