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Pony woke up to bright sunlight shining in his eyes.

He groaned and shut his eyes tightly.

After a few minutes, he sat up and blinked a few times as he opened his eyes again.

Once his eyes adjusted to the bright sunlight, he yawned loudly and stretched his arms over his head.

His eyes scan the room like they did every morning, when suddenly something caught his eye and made him freeze, his eyes widening to the size of saucers.

"I … erm … uh –"He was choking on his own words, he didn't know what to say. He kept opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water.

There on his desk was a dark skinned boy with long, heavily greased black hair and big, black, puppy dog eyes, who was wearing a jeans jacket over a plain black t-shirt and faded blue jeans.

Just like his drawing.

No, No it can't be …

Finally, Ponyboy found his voice.

"W-who are you?"

The boy just smiled slightly as he answers shyly,

"Johnny … Johnny Cade."

No, no, no, there has to be another explanation. Drawings can't come to life. It just isn't possible. It's just a coincidence, yeah that's it, it's just a coincidence!

"W-where did you come from? How did you get in here?"

Johnny stayed silent, looking down at his hands as he played with them nervously.

"You," He finally answers, barely above a whisper, not looking up from his hands.

Pony fists at his blankets at that answer.

"What do you mean?" He asks, raising his voice in confusion and frustration.

This time Johnny didn't answer at all.

Pony let out an unnerving laugh, before he stood up abruptly, and glared at Johnny with a hint of desperation.

"I don't believe you! That's impossible! Drawings can't come to life and you can't get what you want by just wishing for it!"

An uncomfortable, thick silence fell between them as Pony tried to figure out what was going on and as Johnny still played with his hands.

Johnny finally took a chance to take a peek at his creator through his bangs.

Their eyes met.

Pony slowly, cautiously came closer to Johnny without breaking eye contact.

"Move," He says softly.

Johnny's head snaps up and he looks at him fully now.

"Huh?" He asks with confusion.

"Stand up."

So, Johnny does as he's told and gets off the desk.

Pony walks around Johnny to his desk and picks up the paper that he had used to draw Johnny.

If his drawing had come to life, it wouldn't be on here anymore.

This was his last chance to prove his sanity.

His eyes widen in panic as he stared down at it. He flips it from front to back, and back again.

Blank. It's blank. Both sides are blank.

Ok, it's official, he's insane. Ponyboy Michael Curtis has completely lost it.

It would be the only logical reason to why this was happening. Stuff like this doesn't happen to sane people.

Sure, he had drew Johnny, even gave him his name, and wished for him to be real … but he never thought it was actually going to happen … This is just too unreal for him and coming from Ponyboy Curtis that was saying a lot.

The paper slips out of his grasp and glides slowly to the floor.

And, suddenly he can't breathe.

No, this can't be happening.

It isn't possible.

It isn't logical.

Your imagination is supposed to stay your imagination, not turn into reality.

It's impossible.

It just didn't make sense.

What the hell is going on?

Maybe, this is only a dream. He does have such a huge imagination that he would dream something this crazy.

So, yeah, he's dreaming, he's only dreaming.

He believes that, until he feels a hand gently rubbing his back.

"Calm down, Ponyboy. Breathe."

But, one look at Johnny and the feel of him actually touching him was too much for the confused, panic-stricken boy.

He jumps away from Johnny. He slowly walks backwards toward the door.

"I-I'm s-sorry … b-but I need to go. S-stay here … I'll be-be … back later."

Then, he twirls around so fast he got whiplash and bolts out of there.