Me new Journal (I'se know ya ol' owner won' mind)
Hiya! Me names Merriweather Sullivan. I'se sixteen yeahs old, a'most seventeen. I'se been stuck in dis here shit whole
since I'se five. I breakin' out though. Me bruddah ran when 'e was 11, an' promised tah come back fer me, dough 'e nevah
did. I not waitin' no more. I'se also know 'es a newsie, an' 'e lives at a lodgin' house fer newsbois. I jist don' know
which one or where it is. But Tracker said 'e would try 'is hardest to find out. So, I'm gonna try me hardest to write
tah ya like Snooks did. I know ya miss 'er, but bein' 'er best friend, I'se promise tah take good care o' ya. I'se
leavin tahnight, like me bruddah, I'se usin' a big shot tah take da focus off o' me. I gotta go an' once I find a good
hide out far from 'ere, I'se write ya 'bout me journey.
Miss ya forevah Snooks, God rest ya soul!
Love Merriweather
"Shh!" I scolded Tracker.
"Sawrry!" His accent was one of a true Brooklynite, "Now, once ya git out, jist keep runnin'. When ya reach da bridge,
you'se be fine. Jist make soire ya 'void da Brooklyn Bridge. God knows what'll happen tah ya dere."
I rolled my eyes, "I'se be fine! I take care o' meself."
"You'se don' know Brooklyn. Look, jist git ya ass tah da Bronx. There, look fer da lodgin' house, you'se bruddah should be dere. A'least, when I was ovah dere, 'e was dere. O'course dats sayin' that your bruddah is da same poison I t'ink 'e is."
I nodded my head, climbed out the window, and grabbed my few belongings from Tracker.
"I'se gonna miss me pahtner in crime." Tracker reminded me of all of the fun times we had stealing food from Snyder. We did that at least once a week before he ran, but he came back. He was the only one who ever came back to me, and I had a feeling he'd be the only one to do so.
"Tracks, come wit me, huh? We could hide out togeddah."
He shook his head, "Naw, be too risky. You gots a bettah chance a gettin' away. B'sides I'se jist got back and could use the diet."
I lightly laughed at his joke about the food we got four times a week, "I promise..." He placed a finger to my lips,
"Don' promise me nuttin'. We'se both know promises don' last forevah."
I looked at him, I knew he was right, and I knew I had to leave. "Goodbye," I whispered to him, but it was more like whispering to the wind. I climbed the side of the building, getting few up quickly. Jumping the remaining feet between the ground and me, I heard the window shut quickly. Snyder must have been climbing the rickety steps for nightly inspection.
Carefully, I made my way to the bushes beside the gates. Slowly, they opened as a carriage strolled by. I grabbed onto the back, and slipped out into the free land. The carriage went a few miles away before I leapt from the back of it. I ran like hell once I saw the silhouette of the bridge in the distance.