Individually Together.
The Sequel to: Differently the Same. If you haven't read that, this won't make any since. Just warning you.
CHAPTER 1: YOU HAVE TO BE LOST,
TO BE FOUND.
"You dirty little bitch! You're gonna die; I keep my promises!"
"SMACKKKK!" Was the last thing I felt, and heard, in my time of innocence; before my well-being fell unwilling into the hands of a stranger. I did what I had taught myself to do; I punched that kid right in the face. Over, and over again.
The horrible guy beating me was just some stranger that had accidentally found his way into my life. He was trying to rape me, also, but I wasn't going to allow that.
I punched and kicked him unconscious, and fled through the streets of this 'great' city in Texas. How I had ended up here two years ago when I was fifteen, didn't make a lot of since and I'll explain later.
But what I can explain now is how I was running through the streets in a town called Texarkana, Texas on the border of Arkansas in 1900, looking for a two year old boy with dashing ice blue eyes, with the Gaelic name of Sean Patrick Conlon.
His baby hair, a mass of red fuzz, most likely from the mother, had grown out, replaced with his father's dirty blonde hair. Sean Patrick was a perfect baby, the kind any mother would long to have from his short stature to his ear length shaggy hair.
The only thing that was slightly wrong with Sean was that he didn't speak. At the age of two he was running and laughing, but he never spoke. He hadn't said one word his whole life, but I'm positive he recognized me as his mother; replacing my child that never was.
I had become separated from him just as the guy who attacked me, known as Slider, a member of a gang in Texas (unlikely place, right? But he was an underage orphan just like me, found wandering the streets of New York when the city was collecting kids like us for the orphan train to be taken west in hope of finding homes or fortunes.
How we ended up in the same random town as me, I don't understand but he still did.
I ran around the corner of a building and heard the faint whimpering coming from a hole in the abandoned place. I reached my hand and pulled out Sean, a small child wearing faded blue overalls, a cap that looked just like his father's and all the other Newsies, with a small brown shirt underneath. He was already tan from the hot sun with a streak of dirt, ash, or oil staining a mark from his forehead to his cheek. How he resembled the Brooklyn leader so.
I had spent the past two years of my miserable life stealing, pick pocketing, traveling, and forgetting about the eighteen year old leader in Brooklyn who literally proved that I didn't matter to him, only as much as his unwanted accidental son, who matter-of-fact, I loved with my life.
"Alright, Sean, it's okay. I wouldn't leave you. Now, let's hitch a ride, I'm getting pretty tired of Texas pretty fast." I said soothingly to my adopted child. He nodded his head, smart for a two year old, minus the talking.
And not enough, we were on our way out of that small Texas town, not exactly knowing where we'd end up, but hoping it would lead us from the state we had had to put up with for far too long.
…
SPOT'S POINT OF VIEW…
Again, I had found myself alone at the docks watching the sunset. Alone.
I could still almost feel the shape of a tiny wrist in my hand, the cheery giggles that escaped her mouth as the sunset faded away.
It had been two years since I saw her face, held her hand, said good mourning. Two long, long years, in which she had vanished into thin air.
She had said she would leave with the baby, my baby, but I thought she was kidding, and that she would let the child go and we would still be together right now, watching the sunset peacefully mark the end of another long day. But obviously, she wasn't buffing.
I guess it sounded like I sent her away, but that goodbye I had said didn't really mean goodbye, at least, I hoped it wouldn't. I had sent my birdies all across the state of New York, not just the city, with no luck of the strawberry blonde girl.
Where she had disappeared to, know one knew. She was just, gone. One day here, the next, gone.
I had even sent my allies in New Jersey to search for her, but she had disappeared. Burnin wouldn't speak to me; blaming me for kicking out Spotette, and I didn't blame him.
In my head I had run over all the possible outcomes; found a suitable husband and is living in riches in some far off place; found a job and is raising that child somewhere happily in the country with a small house. Those were the most positive outcomes, but I thought of the negative ones too; maybe she jumped of the docks again with no one to save her or maybe she was killed or starved to death, but I prayed it wasn't that.
It didn't make any since how she could just vanish. I missed her. I missed her so much; it was sucking the life out of me, one small swallow at a time.
I know that I'm not doing well, that I rule Brooklyn with a cold stare, never showing emotion, because that was what I had to do. If I let down my mask, everyone would watch me crumble, and I still had a city to run. But the city seemed to be empty. Without her.
AUTHORS NOTE: DON'T OWN NEWSIES. DO OWN SEAN PATRICK AND SAMANTHA ROSE AND SLIDER AND BURNIN.
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I can't read mines.
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