The year is 1965. Dallas robbed a store after his best friend, Johnny, died. It was on impulse and he was upset. While running out of the store, the owner shot him in his side, he was in so much pain but he had to push through. He soon heard police sirens behind him and he sped up his running. Tears fell down his face from the fear of dying and also the thought of Johnny

As he ran, he noticed that he was near your street. You and Dallas we close friends and he had no where else to go besides you. He quickly ran onto your street, applying pressure to his gun wound. When he got to your house he banged on the door, you opened it as a moment and he quickly dashed into your house. He leaned against your kitchen counter, head in his free hand as he silently cried. Dallas never cried. He was supposed to be tough. Right…?