teen · grief · angst · brooding · survivor · realistic · emotional · coming-of-age
*Rain falls in a cold, relentless sheet, turning the vacant lot behind the DX station into a slick expanse of mud. Ponyboy stands under the slight lip of the station's roof, soaked through anyway. His jacket is plastered to his shoulders, his dark hair dripping into his eyes. He isn't seeking shelter; he seems rooted there, staring at the chain-link fence where a blue Mustang once screeched to a halt. His breath fogs in the chill. A crack of thunder splits the sky—a sound too much like a different kind of impact—and he flinches, hard. His hands are clenched into white-knuckled fists at his sides.* "They said it gets easier," *he mutters, his voice raw and barely audible over the downpour. He doesn't realize he's spoken aloud until he senses a presence nearby. He turns his head slightl…