Wishes in the Water
Chapter One
He leaned over as far as he could and stared into the dark river running beneath his feet, it looked like glass, solid and beautiful. Like nothing could break it, he felt like he was watching himself from somewhere else, he saw a single tear break at the edge of his reddened left eye and fall, in slow motion into the water below. The flawless surface was broken in a second and a few small ripples darted from the point of contact.
So that was what it all came to...
A tear...
A tear with a story...
Bumlets was his name, he couldn't remember how he'd got it, he'd just been called it since he could remember. He'd been a newsboy forever, it was a living, just like everything else. It wasn't what he wanted to do though, he wanted to be a dancer, he wanted to be on the stage. That was what everyone wanted, only a few people get the chance, they're the lucky ones, he mused to himself. He loved to perform... that was how he sold papers a lot of the time, by getting the attention of anyone standing nearby. One of his earliest memories was sitting by the side of a stream, under an apple tree. He used to get leaves that had fallen on the ground and hold them tight in his hands, shut his eyes, and make a wish, then, still with his eyes shut so tight, he'd place it gently in the water and watch it float downstream. It was childish but he used to believe in it so badly. He'd never wished to be a Newsie, who would, it was hard work, all weathers he was out there, appealing to the people to buy his papes, they could keep him alive, if they stopped buying he'd die. That's how easily it could all go wrong. But he had some of the truest friends he could ever want; they'd die for him, he'd die for them. But still, he wanted to be up there on the stage.
He woke up with a strong feeling of déjà vu it was another morning, he didn't know what day it was, that didn't affect him much. He chucked an undershirt on and yanked some pants on, then he grabbed his shirt and headed for the bathroom, he got in there and cuffed Blink round the head
"Ow" Blink cried as he cut himself on his chin with his razor
"Sorry Blondie" laughed Bumlets,
"How am I ever meant tah find a bird with you lot about givin' me scars?"
"Wid your childish good looks? It'll be a breeze"
Bumlets laughed again, he didn't fancy a shower, having cold water poured over your head at this time of the morning wasn't really that appealing. He yanked his shirt over his head and ran his fingers through his hair then tucked a few lose strands behind his ear and brushed his fringe out of his eyes. He grabbed his stick from against the wall and ran out of the bunkroom door and down the stairs, he had a feeling it was going to be a good day, for once...
Chapter One
He leaned over as far as he could and stared into the dark river running beneath his feet, it looked like glass, solid and beautiful. Like nothing could break it, he felt like he was watching himself from somewhere else, he saw a single tear break at the edge of his reddened left eye and fall, in slow motion into the water below. The flawless surface was broken in a second and a few small ripples darted from the point of contact.
So that was what it all came to...
A tear...
A tear with a story...
Bumlets was his name, he couldn't remember how he'd got it, he'd just been called it since he could remember. He'd been a newsboy forever, it was a living, just like everything else. It wasn't what he wanted to do though, he wanted to be a dancer, he wanted to be on the stage. That was what everyone wanted, only a few people get the chance, they're the lucky ones, he mused to himself. He loved to perform... that was how he sold papers a lot of the time, by getting the attention of anyone standing nearby. One of his earliest memories was sitting by the side of a stream, under an apple tree. He used to get leaves that had fallen on the ground and hold them tight in his hands, shut his eyes, and make a wish, then, still with his eyes shut so tight, he'd place it gently in the water and watch it float downstream. It was childish but he used to believe in it so badly. He'd never wished to be a Newsie, who would, it was hard work, all weathers he was out there, appealing to the people to buy his papes, they could keep him alive, if they stopped buying he'd die. That's how easily it could all go wrong. But he had some of the truest friends he could ever want; they'd die for him, he'd die for them. But still, he wanted to be up there on the stage.
He woke up with a strong feeling of déjà vu it was another morning, he didn't know what day it was, that didn't affect him much. He chucked an undershirt on and yanked some pants on, then he grabbed his shirt and headed for the bathroom, he got in there and cuffed Blink round the head
"Ow" Blink cried as he cut himself on his chin with his razor
"Sorry Blondie" laughed Bumlets,
"How am I ever meant tah find a bird with you lot about givin' me scars?"
"Wid your childish good looks? It'll be a breeze"
Bumlets laughed again, he didn't fancy a shower, having cold water poured over your head at this time of the morning wasn't really that appealing. He yanked his shirt over his head and ran his fingers through his hair then tucked a few lose strands behind his ear and brushed his fringe out of his eyes. He grabbed his stick from against the wall and ran out of the bunkroom door and down the stairs, he had a feeling it was going to be a good day, for once...