Hello! ChickenLuv8 here! I'm beyond excited that I'm finally posting my first fanfic! I have been thinking and pondering for so long trying to come up with an idea. I know this will probably be exactly like so many other Newsies fanfics, with a girl newsie and mean or dead parents, regular stuff like that. But those are always my favorite aspects! Too bad! Ya gotta deal with it!
This fanfic is set after the strike, but the Refuge wasn't shut down, and Crutchie still came back. I still like having that threat. So, without further super rambling...
One, two, three...
I counted my tears slowly plopping onto my pillow.
... four, five, six...
I don't even know who I am anymore, what with not being allowed to be myself.
... seven, eight, nine...
What is life when no one around loves you?
... ten, elev-
"Margaret!" I jumped out of bed immediately and rushed down the stairs.
"Yes, Father?" I stared into his stone cold eyes, filled with hatred and tyranny.
"You missed a spot." he said cooly, swiping his forefinger over a black smudge on the table.
"But that stain has been there for years! I can never get it off!" I protested, sizzling tears brimming my eyes.
"YOU WILL NOT REST UNTIL IT HAS DISAPPEARED, GIRL!"
I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment, gathering myself together, but that was the wrong thing to do. In that split second, Father had struck me across the left cheek, causing a gasp to escape my big mouth. I can usually handle the frequent hits, but he had hit a frightful bruise that I had gotten earlier that day.
"Does that hurt, girl?" When I said nothing, he struck me again and kicked the back of my knees, which made me crumple to the floor. "You had better wipe up that grime, or suffer much worse!" He swiftly turned down a hallway and left me there, weak and miserable.
I heaved myself up off the ground and staggered over to the cupboard. I retrieved a towel and a bucket, then filled it with warm soapy water. After dipping the towel in the water, I scrubbed like it was my lifeline. I scrubbed and scratched and scraped to no avail. I continued until my fingers went numb. But all this work was useless, so I decided to clean up and hope for the best.
I timidly knocked on the door to Father's study. He opened it and swept past me towards the kitchen without a sound. "THERE IS NO DIFFERENCE THAT I SEE!" he yelled suddenly and stormed around the corner. He grabbed my arm painfully and dragged me up the stairs and towards the door that haunts my dreams. He grasped the handle.
"Father! No! Please!" I cried.
"Quiet, girl!" He threw me inside the barren room onto the rough, dirty ground. I watched it terror as he gazed thoughtfully at a rack. A rack that held belts. Belts for beating. With nails and spikes and broken glass. Even rarely used flammable ones that burned me. He was muttering to himself and I, with a mad idea, gathered my remaining strength and bolted to the door. I was this close to getting out when a sharp pain ricocheted through my body and I collapsed. Father stood above me holding in his hand the worst of the whips, which he calls the Tautrinator.
He whipped me across the stomach and I cried out. "That's for not obeying my chore orders."
A lash around my thigh. "That's for trying to escape."
Both my shoulders. "That's for being a useless thing!"
He circled the pathetic, whimpering me with a sneer. "You're worse than your sister."
He kicked me in the gut, and left.
"You're worse than your sister." echoed through my mind. My sister. My sister. Oh, Grace. I miss you so much. Why did you leave me? Why did you forsake me? Pushed me away and ran! You left me behind with a monster. You knew that. "WHY?!" I screamed out loud, unable to contain myself. "WHY, WHY, WHY?! WHY THIS LIFE?! WHY ME?!" Tears streamed down my face, not willing to stop, no reason to stop, and I crawled towards my room still muttering, "Why?"
Why? Why must I make you go through all this horror? Cuz it's fun. *cackle* Just kidding! (Duh!) Hang in there, Margaret, something will turn up 'once and for all'!