It's A Long Road Home.

By Deemarie

Disclaimer: Sadly, tonight I do not own Newsies. I own anybody you don't recognize. I think. I hope I haven't accidentally lifted someone's characters. If I did tell me and I'll change with proper evidence and all that.

Author's Note: Due to popular demand (one request from Fastdancer) this is a sequel to Just Keep Going. Please read that first. Oh, and later on in the story Anna-Maria is not bulimic, okay?

I study my hands. I've got broken nails with cracked dry skin. When I was a newsie my hands were always dirty but they were never like this. There are old scars and new. I've got swollen palms from being hit with a ruler or a cane or anything Matron Smith can get her old, fat paws on. There are scars on my back and it seems like a permanent lump behind my left ear.

When I first returned to the Newark Home I looked for an escape route whenever possible. I actually did make it out twice. Once another girl named Toady ratted me out and another time a guard caught me. But it has been more than a year. It is now September 1, 1899. I was recaptured in August of 1898. I figured that Magic would find me or Race or anyone. Sometimes I feel like I'd sell my soul to get out.

"Anna-Maria Higgins! Stop daydreaming and get back to scrubbing that floor now!" Matron Smith screams and sends a mop handle crashing into my head. I hunch a little closer to the floor and dip my red hands into the lye solution. Maybe it's better not to think anymore. Maybe it's better to accept. I can't keep going much longer. I've never been locked up for quite this long before. When I was younger Race and I used to be able to get out for weeks until someone caught us.

"Anna-Maria? Are you okay?" the soft whisper came from Julia Martin, one of the youngest girls here, only five. "It's time to eat Anna-Maria. Come on."

I get up and follow Julia to the dining hall. Poor kid has only been here for two weeks. She's such a sweet little thing that I hope they don't break her. I hope she, at least, can stay strong.

"Lord, please help these wicked sinners to see the error of their ways. Let them forget being newsies and things of that wicked nature. Please help them to cast off the rags of their former wild selves and become obedient servants to You and to the good folk that feed and clothe them so generously out of their own pockets." Warden Harper always gives the same prayer.

I shake my head and look around at all the things we're to be happy for. Clothes made out of the cheapest, ugliest calico around. Greasy soup made out of cabbage and not much else. Any day that I lived starving on the street was better than this. There I had my freedom and the racetracks. A river to swim in. Newspapers to sell. And friends, much as I didn't want to admit it.

I choke down my food and go up to the dormitories. At first when I got there the girls tried to fight me, but I trained under the best street fighters in New York. The newsies. Now they leave me alone and I leave them alone.

Later I awake and run for the bathroom. I throw up all my food just as I have every day for two weeks. I don't mean to. I can't keep it down. I don't understand why. There is no way I can be pregnant and I don't have a fever. Slumped against the wall I catch sight of myself in the mirror and really look at myself. My once thick black hair is dirty and stringy hanging against my face. I have a grey complexion instead of a tan like I used to. And my blue eyes? Dull and dead looking with black circles under them. This is Tony's sister? The girl Spot Conlin maybe fell in love with? How could I have let this happen? How could I have lost hope? There is going to be a way I can get out. And I have to keep looking.

The next day I'm in the best mood in months! It's Saturday so all the people looking for good servants will be here. Maybe they'll want to stroll outside. But that also means I get to visit with Warden Harper. My weekly interrogation about "Where, exactly, might your brother Anthony be Anna-Maria? Just try to think. Maybe a good whipping will help you remember, eh?" I've never let anything slip but I hate to admit that it is sometimes hard.

I take my shower and really try to rub the dirt off my body. I think I succeed. Anyway I look better than I did.

Today is the usual blend of people asking how strong I am and me trying to look sickly. I also get an accustomed beating from the hands of Harper. "Honest, Warden, me and Anthony parted after we left here. I have no idea where he could've gone. Honest!"

Ah, yes life goes on right? I'm in my bunk trying my hardest not to move. Sore spots all over, especially in my ribs. Now I know what Magic was talking about when she said that Spot bruised her ribs. Either she's got a high pain tolerance or I've got a low one because I really hurt!

I look up idly when I hear Matron Smith coming with another prisoner (they like to call them residents but I believe in calling them as I see them). Must be a new one tonight because she's giving her speech.

"Now I won't tolerate any mixing with the boys. I want all my girls to be good girls. Breakfast at 5:00 and dinner at 5:00. Lights out at nine. You'll either be scrubbing floors, working the kitchen or in the laundries. Here you are. Take any empty bunk." She slams the iron bars of the door shut and locks them.

I hear the customary scramble to stare at the new girl and decide whether she's got anything to steal. Apparently not because Bertha Torgrenson has came back to her bunk across from mine.

Next thing I know there's little Julia leaping onto my bunk asking questions, "Hey Anna-Maria this one's got a funny accent. She says she's from New York! Where's that? Is it in Newark somewhere? Plus she's got some red hair. But not all red hair. Most of its brown. Why's that?"

I take a deep breath but before I leap off my bunk I tell Julia "New York is a city in New York State. She dyes her hair."

I walk over to a top bunk where the new girl staring at the ceiling. When she hears footsteps she tenses, almost as if she wants to jump out a handy window. Then she sees me and smiles.

"Why fancy meeting The Traveler in The Newark Home For Wayward Children."

"Magic? Where'd you come from? Did you get my message? How's Brooklyn? How's Manhattan? Hell, how's New York?" I babble on excitedly, ignoring the stares of the other girls.

"I can see I'm going to have to talk more than I like tonight, hmm?" Magic told me rolling her eyes.

"Answer the questions, Magic."

"Okay, okay. Obviously I came from New York. Actually I lived in Newark for about a week before I got picked up. They don't look too kindly on stealing apples."

"No kidding. How do you think I got picked up when I was younger? Well, actually it was for stealing and shooting craps." I told her.

"Yes, I got your message. Alley Cat got picked up for breaking and entering and saw it. When Midtown decided to get its spy out a week later she came and told me. I hopped a train and got here. I was going to try to get you out from outside but there's too many bars on the windows." She pushed her hair out of her face. "New York has changed a lot. Manhattan led a strike in July. Now there's kind of a union. Jack Kelly is the leader. Or he was. Its pretty much disbanded now."

I paused before asking about Brooklyn. She told me that after I left Spot closed borders. Nobody came in, nobody went out except birdies, and they had to have special permission. Spot was still a good leader, but he was hard. There was no rule breaking and no warnings. Some days a sneeze could get you kicked out.

She continued on "Jacky-boy, Boots and a new kid The Walking Mouth broke borders to tell us about the strike. Spot seemed like he was going to be okay for a while after that. Then the day after we won the thing Racetrack went to Spot and asked if he'd heard from you. Spot snapped. He started beating on Race and then the rest of Brooklyn and Manhattan got in on the fight. It was some sort of free for all. Now borders are wide open in order for Brooklyn and Manhattan to have some sort of war. It isn't safe to walk down the street in Manhattan if you're from Brooklyn and vice versa."

"Oh my God. A lot has changed." I whispered, sick about the thought of either Spot or my brother or my friends getting hurt. "You know about Racetrack and me right?" I asked Magic.

"Are you kidding? I was there in the train yards when you were telling him to get away from you! But it is your story to tell and you sounded very scared." She told me.

"I was afraid to come back here. They said they were going to hurt Tony." I told her.

"I figured it was something like that." She sighed. "Now go back to your bunk and go to sleep. We've got a busy day tomorrow."