Chapter One

Author's Note: Well, since people wanted this, here we go into an origin story! I'm glad to know that people wanted something like this! IMPORTANT, PLEASE READ: In chapter one, Blink still has both of his eyes! I repeat: BLINK STILL HAS BOTH OF HIS EYES. Sorry, but it's terribly important that you know this. I own none of the characters at all, whatsoever, except maybe a few of them that are OCs and all but other than that, I don't own any newsies, or newsies characters!

I sat up in the back of the carriage and stared out the old, dirty window at the old, dirty city streets that I had grown up on. I remember when I was little and would go out into the street and sit there with a little group of boys. That was when I was 7 or 8 years old. Now I was 13, and life hadn't been that nice to me either way, up, down, sideways, well, you get the idea. Now I was headed off to the Refuge, fearing all that I could have feared and more.

My father had been dead since I was a baby, but my mother hadn't and she disrespected me in any way she could find. I was tortured under her, not physically, but mentally, only physically when she felt the need to apply anything. So then I had gotten out of the house and run away only to be caught by Snyder after robbing a store.

Anyone who's anybody knows who Snyder is. Anyone who's anybody knows what the Refuge is.

So being stuck in the carriage with that horrible man right across from me was not something I enjoyed. He would look at me every now and then, staring at me, watching my every move, which was rare because I was hardly daring to breathe more than worrying about movement. But he continued to stare at me, and when I would catch his gaze, I would hold it to its full glory, making sure I didn't blink. To blink or look away would signify that I was weak, the prey, and he was the predator, and I didn't need that on my mind as well.

When the carriage finally stopped, and Snyder got out, I almost remained there forever, but he took his cane and hooked my arm with it, pulling me out of the carriage. I could almost hear my mother's voice saying "Tom, if you wouldn't stop getting into so much trouble all of the time…." And then I stopped hearing her voice and heard Snyder's as he pushed me in through the gates and into the door of the Refuge. He unlocked it with heavy keys all the time telling me how it was going to be fine here and the streets were so much more dangerous.

But I knew as well as he did that it wasn't going to be fine here and the streets were loads less dangerous than this place. As we walked in, I looked at the dark, dank walls and the cobwebs that emphasized the hallway's width. He pushed me past the cells that looked like only real prisoners were kept in and up some stairs to a large room where I was forced through the door and shoved into it. Then he slammed the door behind me, leaving me with the rest of the boys that were in here. They were staring at me, watching me.

I moved off to the side and leaned against a wooden pole that was holding up a bunk bed. No one bothered to approach me, and if they had, I probably would have told them to shove off. My attitude had changed from angry to frustrated in a matter of seconds and either way I wasn't going to be nice to anyone who tried to ask me where I came from or anything else about me.

For that first afternoon, all I did was lie in one of the bunks that was obviously unoccupied and thought about my life and what was going to happen to me now. I was scared but I couldn't show it or everyone would think of me as a wimp, which was not something I needed in the Refuge. Snyder obviously thought I was tough for a 13 year old, now these guys had to think the same thing.

Food was served roughly around 5 and I only ate a little bit but that was mostly due to the fact that my stomach was uptight about this whole thing as well. If anything, I realized nothing was going to go well for a while now until I got out of here. When I headed back to the bed I had been in for that afternoon, I fell asleep almost immediately.

The sunlight that came in in the morning was dim because the window was so dirty but at least it was enough to wake me up. I lay there for a while, uncertain of what to do. Maybe I could get out of here soon, maybe someone would come looking for me. But that only begged the question of who on earth would come looking for me of all people?

The other boys got up faster than I did, and when I finally pulled myself up into a sitting position, I noticed that I was still getting stares from people. What the heck was wrong with these guys? They just couldn't seem to grasp that I was a newcomer and was stuck in the same position as they were. It was then that a boy who was obviously older than me walked over to me.

"Hey, kid, why ya in heah?" he asked me, in a kinder tone than I thought was going to come out of him, but I still was wary.

"Stole from a store, dat alrigh' wid youse?" I asked him, almost regretting answering that question but feeling as if this guy knew my problems.

"Same ting wid me, 'cept I ain't got nothin' ta go by."

"What's youse name?" was my only question since I needed something to call him by. "I be Tom."

"Kelly, Jack Kelly." was his slow and hesitant reply. "Dat's what I'm known as. Say, youse evah been in heah before?"

"Nah. Ise jus' ran away."

"Youse are lucky. I been heah before once, an' I don' like ta go ovah it again."

"Well, I ain't been outta me house much 'cause of me old lady." I said, defensively.

"Dis damn place ain't got nothin' for nobody, bu' youse are lucky ta have only been heah dis once. I'm 15."

"13, an' don't ask 'bout nothin' too private, alrigh'?" I said and nearly turned away from him, but he grabbed my arm, holding me back.

"I ain't gonna do dat. Ise was jus' gonna ask ya if youse evah hoid of bein' a newsie."

"Yeah, shore have an' I ain't interested, 'kay?" I replied quickly and got up, heading to the window to stare out at the sky before he got anything else out that was meant to ensnare me into another life.

Sure, I had heard of newsies. I had heard them all day in the tenant building I had lived in for most of my life. They would go out there screaming at the top of their lungs trying to get you to buy their papes. I had only been approached by them once, but that time I had told them to "get da hell outta me face" and walked away. I wanted to be a thief, not a newsie. I wanted to make people feel the way I had when my childhood had been stolen from me. But I had learned the hard way and there I was in the Refuge just because I had been attempting to do the thing I had wanted to become.

When Jack had mentioned the word "newsie" I had nearly gotten up right then and there and ran to the far side of the room. I didn't like that idea, I wanted what I wanted despite the fact that it had landed me here in jail instead of becoming rich off of other people's money.

It was then that someone walked into the room and everyone filed out, and I approached that someone who was a tough looking man with a sneer on his face. He grabbed me without asking who I was and holding the back of my collar took me down the stairs and got me into a room where I was obviously going to be put to work. He told me that I would be peeling potatoes and cooking other foods, I almost was relieved and thought that this would be easy. Then I saw the man with a whip in his hands and forgot about life being easy and painless, and got to work as fast as I could. Thus began my life in the Refuge.

Author's Note: Well, that was chapter one and I hope you enjoyed it! Thank you for reading and please, review, review, review!