Update 6/28/2010: This story won an award at the NYNA! It was 1st place for Best Tragedy. Woohoo! *jumps for joy*
David sits behind a desk, flipping through papers. He almost wishes he hadn't taken the job as editor, what with all the work and all. He barely has time to himself anymore. But isn't that what he wants to avoid? Time to himself? Extra time allows too many memories to come knocking at the door to his conscious, demanding to be relived. Memories he'd rather forget.
It was years ago. Thirteen, to be exact. Unlucky thirteen. David had been running down the streets of Manhattan in the dead of night, Jack hard on his heels. It was Jack's birthday, and David had arranged for surprise party at Medda's with all the newsies. He had kept Jack busy at his tenement until it was time, then lead him down the building's stairs and into the street where he raced off, tearing away the cobblestone with his churning feet.
They had been about halfway through the journey. David was getting close to having to stop, but he was trying to last as long as possible.
"C'mon, Jack!" He wheezed, not stopping nor turning around.
He heard a gasp, and the sound of pounding feet disappeared from behind him. David whipped around just in time to see Jack dragged into alley.
What happened next was an image he would spend the rest of his life trying to rid himself of.
He careened around the corner and into the alley, only to see Jack on the ground, bleeding, a man pushing past him and fleeing from the scene, a coin pouch clutched in his fist and a glittering red knife in the other.
David was at Jack's side in the blink of an eye. He screamed the other boy's name, but it sounded foreign and distant to his ears. He shook Jack, called for help, tried to stop the bleeding - but to no avail. Jack Kelly bled to death, right there in the alley.
So that is why David sits at his desk, with too much work and not enough time: because of memories. Memories that cause him unfathomable pain and push him to the edge of suicide every chance they get.
The work is hard, the hours long, and the pay little. But it's better than the alternative.