Hi, my name's Sam Mitchell. I'm a greaser and a soc. My dad's side of the family are greasers. I'm more like my dad. My mom's side of the family are socs. I'm not a stuck-up, rich, Mustang-loving soc. I'm tough. I'm overprotective of my little brother, Nick. My older brothers, Ryan, Thomas, Alex, Tony, Luca, and James are always there for me when I'm surrounded by Socs. Socs hate me and my brothers because of that we are greasers. I fight most of the fights in my family, mostly to protect my little brother. I live on the Greaser side of Tulsa. I don't live with my mom anymore after the fight between my parents.
One day, I'm walking home and I see a blue Mustang with 6 socs in it pulls up next to me. "Hey, boys. Look who it is, the famous Sam, the greaser and soc," one of them says, stopping the car. "I'm not a stuck-up, rich, Mustang-loving soc like you idiots and my mother. I'm a greaser like my dad, the famous Chris Mitchell. You shouldn't mess with me or my 6 older brothers and dad will come after you," I say, starting to walk away. "Boys, did you hear what that broad just said to us? I think she was threatening us," The same soc says, opening the car door, coming towards me. I start to reach into my leather jacket pocket for my prized possession, my switchblade. I turn around with my blade out. "If you touch me, you rich trash, I will cut off your tongue and shove it down your throat," I say in my lowest voice. The soc keeps walking towards me. "Grab her, boys," The soc says. The other 5 socs come up behind me and grab me. I try to get away, but they tighten their grip. The one soc, probably the leader, takes out a blade and presses it to my forehead. He drags it down to my jaw. I bite my lip, trying not to cuss out. He punches me straight in the jaw. I fall to the ground. "The grease isn't too tough, is she? Beat her up," He says as he watches the others beat me up. I fall unconscious. They leave me there to bleed.
-Time Skip-
I wake up on someone's couch. I try to sit up, but I wince at the pain. "Look who's awake, Darry," I hear someone say. I look around to see a young boy sitting in a recliner next to the couch.
"Yeah, she's awake," Another voice says from the floor.
A tall man walks in and leans next to the door frame.
"He looks familiar," I think to myself, looking at the man leaning against the door frame. "Hey, I'm Darry Curtis. I'm the one who found you," he says. My eyes widened as he says his name. "It's the famous Darry Curtis, the one my brothers keep talking about," I think again. "I'm Sam Mitchell. I've seen you before somewhere. My brothers talk about you. Something about playing football with you," I say, rubbing my head. "He's hotter in person," I think to myself. "Hey, Darry. Who's the broad on the couch?" A voice says from the front door.
"I can hear you, you know?" I say, trying to sit up again. I lean against the arm of the couch. Darry sits down on the other side of the couch. "Are your brothers Ryan, Chris, Thomas, Alex, Tony, Luca, and James Mitchell?" Darry asks. "Yeah, they're my older brothers. I also have a little brother named Nick," I say, grasping my side. "Fuck," I whisper to myself. I pass out a few seconds after. "Sam!" Darry yells, leaning me against his chest. "Call Ryan please," I manage to say. Darry calls Ryan up. "Is this Ryan?... This is Darry from Football... Your sister is badly hurt and is at my house... It was those fucking socs.... Okay, see ya," Darry says. My eyes widened at Darry cursing. A knock on the door comes a few minutes after Darry hangs up. My brother, Ryan bursts through with my other brothers and dad.
-This is Ryan-
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