Gone - Dallas Winston imagine (No OCs!).
Gone: (adj.) absent. Not all there.
That was a pretty good way to describe the mind of Dallas Winston after Johnny Cade’s death. His mind became absent.
Stay gold, Ponyboy.
What did this even mean? Why did Johnny even say that? Dally’s mind was raging with questions as he exited Johnny’s hospital room, leaving a shocked Ponyboy Curtis with the cold body of Johnny Cade.
Why did he have to die?
Dally was thinking fast. He was being irrational. He concluded that life was pointless as he was rummaging through the shelves of an empty store, the clerk suspicious of Dally’s rash intentions. Johnny was pretty much the only person who kept him sane, and he was gone too.
Gone. He’s gone.
The store clerk called Dally out. Dally destroyed whatever he was holding in his hands. It was funny how a boy under the age of 20 could be so ‘tuff’. But it was evident that Dally wasn’t trying to be tuff.
He finally hit his boiling point. He pulled out the unloaded gun.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The gunshots roared out, and Dally ran for his life. Running to the nearest public phone, he thought about what he was about to do. He chuckled faintly; he knew that he finally became “out of it”. He dialed the number of the Curtis household. He wasn’t too ready to say his goodbyes.
The gang was frantic, rushing to the park. Dally kept running, but he was interrupted by sirens wailing in the distance. Names flashed in his brain, and he picked out the good in them.
Two-Bit Mathews.
Man, how he’d miss him. He’d miss his jokes. He’d miss his way of stealing almost everything. He’d even miss how he flirted with Marcia, a Soc girl who was already taken. He’d also miss his trusty switchblade, how it helped them in so many rumbles.
Steve Randle.
That kid was real smart. Even though he was kicked out of his house a lot, he had a lot to offer. He was Sodapop Curtis’ best friend. He was cocky and he had some real skills when it came to cars. Dally still wondered how Steve could hold off four other guys in a fight with a broken bottle.
Sodapop Curtis.
Now, this guy could get drunk on plain living. Didn’t need to touch any liquor. He was Mr. Happy-go-lucky. One thing that you could remember about Sodapop was his happiness. That was real cool. He made everybody’s mood better no matter what. He looked out for Ponyboy, too. He was the middleman in all the family fights. That must have been hard for him.
Darry Curtis.
That man could put anybody in line, even Dally. Aside from Dally, Darry was the head of the gang. He had brains, a good head on his shoulders, and skills to maintain a house. Dally had to give him props since he was carrying such a great weight on his shoulders.
Ponyboy Curtis.
He could be a real pain sometimes, but he was always rational. Even Dally had to admit that he was a good kid. He may have been young, but he sure had a big brain. It was funny how Ponyboy didn’t think that Dally knew about his feelings for Cherry. The kid made them obvious. He wore his heart on his sleeve, and he couldn’t say otherwise.
Johnny Cade.
Dally stuck with him through thick and thin. Johnny was so strong yet so fragile, and it was scary how he hated life only at sixteen years of age. He would miss Johnny the most. Heck, he already did. Johnny was dead. He was gone, too.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The bullets pierced Dally’s chest, and he fell to the floor. He just fell, and his eyes closed. He didn’t see a “light at the end of the tunnel”; he just saw the empty darkness behind his eyelids. The gang saw it all in slow-motion. They saw Dallas Winston give in.
Why did he have to die?