A.N. Newsies Pape Selling Competition Circulation 4: Uno

Prompts: The Bronx, "I never wanted this to happen" and anger

Task: Write about a time when a character is unable to do something because of something about them or of something they have done in the past, and how they try their hardest to get to do this thing, then whether they succeed or not.

Word Count: 570

Spot Conlon didn't start out in Brooklyn. In fact, he lived in the Bronx. He was quite small in stature, slight. Plenty smaller than the other boys. Perhaps he was still young and growing, but his young age didn't stop the other boys from picking on him, especially the Brooklyn newsies. Their leader, Patch, well, he was a nasty one. Standing tall at 5"9, Patch towered over Spot by about a foot and a half. Patch enjoyed picking on the smaller newsies, especially Spot, it seemed.

Spot never seemed to get away from the torment. Even if Patch was from Brooklyn, he seemed to get his kicks knocking around the Bronx boys. Constantly being tripped, pushed around, even getting his money stolen by Patch. Don't get him wrong, he tried to fight back. Oh, he tried. But every time was the same outcome, a busted lip and a nice shiner to match. Spot was absolutely sick of Patch and his reign of terror over him and all the rest of the smaller newsies. Every hit he took caused a bubbling anger in the pit of his stomach, every time one of the other small newsies came back to the Lodging House with a black eye and empty pockets he clenched his fists. He was so ready to clean Patch's clock. Well, that opportunity came, and not soon enough for Spot's liking.

On his way home from selling papes, Spot was cornered by Patch in an alley. Patch smirked as he punched Spot in the face, digging his grimy hands into the boy's pocket to take his money. As Spot hit the ground, he felt something in himself snap. Wheeling around, he hauled off, punching the larger boy right in the eye.

Patch staggered out into the street, stepping out in front of a cart. Time slowed down as Patch looked at the cart, paralyzed with fear. Spot flinched as Patch was kicked in his back by the horse, the cart wheels running over his legs. Patch curled up into a ball, legs swelling rapidly. Spot ran up to him, kneeling down. His hands hovered over Patch's battered, but breathing, body.

"I never wanted this to happen"

A few moments later, some men from the gathered crowd walked over, picking up Patch's body and carried him away. Spot sat back on his heels, blinking into the sky. A few of the Brooklyn boys slowly crept up to Spot, looking terrified of the small boy. Reaching his hand out, Spot picked up the large key that usually hung around Patch's neck from where it lay in the dirt. Standing up, he fixed each Brooklyn boy with a hard glare, watching them flinch until his gaze.

Hands in his pocket, key around his neck, he walked across the Brooklyn Bridge.

Although they were terrified of the Brooklyn leader, the Bronx boys never felt safer.

A.N. I had something totally different in mind the first time I read the task, but, hey, it turned out pretty good anyway.