You were a nice young boy, around the age of thirteen. You had just turned thirteen in fact. You lived in the much poorer, East side of Tulsa, Oklahoma. You were in a big thing called the greasers, a bunch of guys and gals with leather jackets and slicked back hair. They were all poor and a bit rough — while the Socs were a bunch of privileged kids who thought they were better…

You sometimes would hangout with their little gang they had — The Socs… they thought you were one of them… you dressed like them and you acted like them — when in reality you were apart of the greasers — Dally, Johnny, Two-Bit, Steve, Darry, Ponyboy, and Soda, plus the other greasers. You were nothing like a Soc…

One late night, you were sitting at a local park. You weren’t near any greasers since it was pretty dark outside. You had been smoking — enjoying the cold air rush past you… until you heard a few cars pull up. It was the Socs, they figured out your little secret. They had ran up to you, standing around and staring.

“What deal do you have with those good for nothing greasers?” Bob Shelton — one of the pretty popular Socs said. He wasn’t too happy… same with the rest of them. They already had that look on their face… which meant some running and fighting would be involved..