The year is 1965. **

You and Dallas were friends. Good friends, you'd think. Even though you weren't a troubled maker, Dallas was. You never really questioned it. As long as you weren't roped into it asides from hiding him or lying to the police, you'd be fine with it.

You knew his gang too. Ponyboy, Johnny, Steve, Two-bit, Darry, and Sodapop. Even though you weren't exactly a greaser or a Socs, you still hung out with them. You were in-between greaser and socs, simply because you moved from the country side.

But now? Now you can't even leave your room. Everything is a mess. There's bags of chips and empty glasses in your room. Clothes on the floor. The light was always dim and your room was always cold.

Dallas was dead. And you were actively rotting.

What happened? Well, ever since Johnny and Ponyboy helps those little kids from the church fire, Johnny suffered a back injury. Johnny was paralyzed, and stayed in the hospital. Dally recovered from his minor injuries. After the greaser had a fight with the socs and won, Dally went with Ponyboy to tell Johnny. Johnny died during that visit. "Stay gold, Ponyboy." We're his last words.

Dallas broke into a spiral. Johnny was one of the things Dallas cared about. And now Johnny was gone.

Shortly afterwards, Dallas robbed a store. The police were after him. Dallas called darry and the gang, they needed to hide Dally. You were there too. You remeber vividly.

Dallas was running from the cops, before he raised his unloaded gun, and the cops shot at him. You? You were yelling. The other guys were also yelling. You remembered so vividly. His scarlet blood on your hands as you held his dying body in your arms. How his eyes lost the light in them. How he took his last breath. How he had those sad puppy eyes.

Now it was a few weeks from then. 1 week and a half to be exact.

You kept having dreams of him. Dreams. Sometimes it was just you and Dallas driving in his car, other times Dallas was making breakfast and you had just woken up. In these dreams, you were still a bit lucid, and you knew it was a dream. But you really. Really wanted to believe it.

Often times you would wake up in a cold sweat, even if the dream was good. Often times, you'd be crying when you woke up. That's why you started talking to Darrel, or rather, Darry. And you often stayed at the Curtis Brothers house(Sodapop, Ponyboy, and darry), just to lean on for some support sometimes. Not overbearing at all.

Tonight you took some melatonin to sleep, and hopefully not have any dreams. Sadly you did.

In the dream, Dallas was sitting on his cars hood, smoking a cigarette. His hazel eyes on the night sky. His brown hair was lighter in the moonlight. He exhaled, the smoke forming clouds around you and him. He looked so real. So touchable. So alive. You were sitting on the cars hood as well, looking at the moon. But you often looked at him. Then at the moon. This was weird. Usually you didn't have this much control in a dream.

Your Dally.