Disclaimer: I don't own Newsies, sadly, they belong to Disney. Mac, however, is my own creation. Please read and review!
I walk gloomily along the street, one hand in my pocket, the other clutching my remaining unsold papes. Today has not been a good day for me. First, I was having such an intense dream this morning that when Kloppman woke me up, I fell out of bed in shock. Which hurt. A lot. Second, hardly anyone has bought a pape from me all day. I only just managed to sell enough to be able to buy myself some lunch, and that wasn't much. And thirdly, I have just discovered that I have a hole in my pocket and so have lost all the money I made this afternoon. This means that unless I can persuade Mac or Race to lend me some money, I will be spending a very hungry night in a doorway somewhere. And it looks like it's gonna rain later. Huh.
Glum and dumb.
That's Race's favourite nickname for me. Needless to say, the others use it too when it suits them. But hey, it's not my fault I have such a cynical outlook on life; you can blame my late father and older brother for that. When someone you're supposed to be able to trust thinks it's funny to make you jump at every available opportunity, you eventually lose the ability to see the positive side of things and become very paranoid. Which is why I am what I am.
Glum and dumb.
I'm not always like this. There are things that make my life worth living. Little Tumbler, for example. He hasn't been with us that long, but I have already got a soft spot for him. (I had a little brother about his age, but he died.) I don't know why I'm so fond of him – I suppose he reminds me of my brother – but he holds a very special place in my heart. He is one of the few people who can make me smile, and I feel warm inside every time I see him laughing or playing with the bigger boys (me included).
Glum and dumb.
There are other things that make me happy. I enjoy teasing Race by stealing the towel in the morning. I like stick fighting with my best friend, Bumlets who, while being a quiet and gentle boy, is a brilliant fighter and a worthy opponent. And I love going to Irving Hall of an evening, to see one of Medda's many vaudeville performances. It's impossible not to adore her; she's the prettiest woman I've ever seen, save my mother. And she is always friendly towards us Newsies, never making us pay to see her perform.
Glum and dumb.
A sudden loud slam brings me sharply back to the present, making me leap about a foot in the air and drop my papers on the ground before I myself stumble and fall down. Huh. Life can be so cruel sometimes.
I pick myself up off the ground and gather up my papes, not even bothering to brush the dust from my clothes. As I continue walking back to the Lodging House, I find myself flinching at every unexpected noise, big or small. But I don't care. After all, that's exactly how I earned my name; by being jumpy all the time. That's why they call me Skittery.
And I know that, whatever else may or may not happen in my life, I will always be Glum and Dumb. Huh.