Disclaimer: I don't own Newsies
The snow was everywhere, falling down in giant clumps, through the night sky, and across the city streets. Usually it was crowded, but no one in their right mind would want to go out in such a storm. Unfortunately, for people like me, who didn't have a home right then, you didn't exactly have a choice.
The snow was up to my knees and I could barely move. I didn't know where to go, but I knew that I couldn't stay outside either. Not a single store was open and even the lamplights seemed weak. Everything was shutting down, and I was stuck in the wrong place.
I put use to the little energy I had left, trying the door of every single building or structure. No such luck. My fingers were numb with frostbite, and moving them was nearly impossible, but I didn't want to spend another minute in the storm.
Finally, I came to a door that pushed right open. I fumbled inside, tripping over my own feet. It was so dark that I couldn't see anything. I didn't think I was allowed to be there, but at that point, I didn't care. I wasn't going back outside. And there was no one there to get me in trouble anyway.
My cheeks were still stinging from the wind and my brain felt like jelly, but I managed to crawl to the back wall. The cold had seeped through my jacket and into my bones- everything was hurting. I was so tired and exhausted, and my eyes could barely stay open. Unable to move another step, I fell asleep.
When I woke up, the room was significantly brighter. The sun wasn't up yet, so it was still difficult to see, but my hideout was finally visible. From the looks of it, it seemed like a sort of back room. There was a staircase, and some ropes were hanging on the walls. And someone was sitting in front of me.
At first I was a little confused, because I was still groggy. I could tell that he was probably around my age, but a little taller. And for some reason, he wore a cowboy hat. "Hello," he greeted. I didn't know what to do so I just nodded and sat up. "I'm Jack." Neither of us said anything. There was a thick silence. "Do you talk?"
"The name is Anthony," I replied. "And yes, I do."
"Then can you tell me why you're here?"
"Why are you here?" I still wasn't sure if I was allowed in the building, and I didn't want to give anything away. In fact, it would've been a smart idea to leave (just in case.) But, like Jack, I was curious.
"It's freezing out, I wanted to get indoors, and I know the owner here. And I asked you first."
"Same as you. I had no place else to go." I hoped that Jack would be the kind of person to understand that. We may have been in the same situation, but he belonged here, I didn't, and he could've taken advantage of that. He reached into his pocket, took out a piece of bread, broke it in half, and gave a piece to me. I could tell he was that kind of nice person. "Thanks."
"You're a street kid, aren't you?"
"Why do you ask so many questions?"
He shrugged. "I don't know. I just do."
I sighed. "Well if you want to know, it's kind of a long story."
Jack looked outside. It was still bad out. "Well we got time. Go ahead."