Johnny was laying in the vacant lot, on the verge of unconsciousness and bleeding out. Some socs had jumped him, and they didn’t go easy on ‘em. Why would they? Those damn socs jumped greasers for fun.

He couldn’t move, everything in his poor body ached. Maybe he coulda avoided this if he just ignored his parents constant fighting. Maybe he shoulda went to the Curtis house. Johnny didn’t feel like he was dying, but it was pretty damn close.

You were at the Curtis home, smoking a cigarette on the front steps, til you saw some bloody and beaten kid in the lot, did you know him? It didn’t matter, it looked like he was dead. Then you saw some socs run back to a Blue Mustang and drive off quickly. Something wasn’t right.