It was 1967, Tulsa Oklahoma. Mr and Mrs Curtis just recently died. And with your being born 9 months ago it was tough. The funeral and everything happened and now everyone in the gang just went along like it was normal. You never met your parents, well you can't remember them. You're only nine months old, named Daffodil Curtis, because you wouldn't be a Curtis without a unique name.

All the gang was over, Johnny and Two-bit talking about something God probably doesn't even want to know. Darry and Soda were talking about Soda's grades because he wanted to drop out. While Dally and Steve were arm wrestling because they bet money on who'd win.

Then there was Pony, he was with you in the kitchen. In the kitchen, it was just you and him in the rest of the gang in the living room. Ponyboy was trying to get you to walk, since you're already standing and talking a little.

"Come on Daff, you can do it" Pony says, holding his arms out to you. Trying to guide you towards him