A/N: Okay so this is the companion piece to 'Remembering Sunday'. It's told through Isabella's point of view. This story is slightly darker than the other one. You don't need have read the other in order to understand this one, but they go together. I'm actually pretty proud of this, but I started writing it at 12 a.m. So, there's a good chance there are some mistakes. Review!!!
Have you ever loved someone so much, you would do anything to keep them safe, even if it meant destroying your life? Have you ever had to run away from something that was so right, just to make sure there would never been a wrong?
I was. And I still am.
I have been running for fourteen days, sixteen hours, twenty three minutes, and twelve seconds. As I keep on running and running, trying to get away from the only thing that had ever made me happy, I realized I must be crazy. Who would leave the best thing that ever happened to them behind?
Me, that's who. I, Isabella Taylor, had to be the dumbest, stupidest girl who ever lived.
I met him on one of "those" days. The kind most people would call beautiful. The sun was shining extra bright, the sky was a vibrant blue. The birds would not stop singing. It was warm, but not hot. People were strolling down the streets of New York City. Children were heard laughing and squealing. Oh, how I hated that type of day.
"Isabella, get yoah lazy ass down heah goil. I ain't got all day. I need ya ta go ta da market and get me a papah. Now scram!" My father screeched at the top of his lungs. If I didn't obey him, he would probably hit me. Not like that was new.
"Coming, Father." I said with a sneering tone. I knew there would be consequences for saying 'father' in such a way, but it felt good.
Luckily, he seemed to be to drunk to notice my tone. I mumbled a goodbye, and left.
As I was walking down the street, I started to hum a little song my mom taught me when I was three. It was called "Ashokan Farewell". As I was walking and humming, I saw a newsie. He was wearing red suspenders, a grey newboy cap, and he held a cane. He was also staring at me with the most beautiful pair of grey blue eyes I had ever seen. It was completely unnerving.
I decided I should by a paper from him, for my dad.
"Excuse me sir, can I have a paper?" I asked him. He just kept staring at me. He was really starting to creep me out.
"Uh… sir? Would you mind if I bought a paper?" He finally semi-snapped out of whatever he was so fixated on, but he still didn't speak. He nodded, so I put a penny in his hand, and grabbed a paper.
As I was walking away, I heard someone run after me.
"I know this may sound a bit strange, but I was wondering, but what is your name?"
"Well my parents call me Isabella, but people I like call me Izzy." Well, it wasn't a total lie. My dad called me Isabella, but I have no idea what my mom would call me. It's not like she would actually come home once in awhile.
This boy was laughing very hard. I gave him a strange look, and he stopped. But inside, I missed the sound of laughter like that.
I asked him his name, and he told me his was Spot Conlon. I had heard that name before. Kids my age seemed to both respect him and fear him at the same time. He didn't seem so scary now, but I bet if he got mad, nobody would want to stand in his way.
Spot Conlon. I liked that name, and I told him. He seemed to smile extra wide when I said that. I liked his smile too. Only this time, I didn't tell him.
I started to walk away again, when he ran and caught up with me, again.
"I know this may be an odd thing to ask, but I was wondering, would you like to go out sometime?"
My father would kill me. He'd tell me I was going against him. He'd probably say I was a slut just like my mom.
" I would love to."
After that, Spot and I went on our first date to some restaurant called "Tibby's". Then we went on our second date to the Brooklyn docks. Then we went on our third, then our fourth, and so on.
After each date, I was getting happier and happier and falling more and more in love with Spot. Soon I rarely went home. My dad would get so violent, saying I was a good-for-nothing daughter, then slapping me.
I finally lived at the lodging house. I loved everyone there and I knew they all loved me. I felt at home for the first time in my life. And that was exactly why I had to leave.
He would come and find me. He always ruined any source of happiness for me. I couldn't have Spot or any of the other newsies hurt.
So I ran. And I've been running for fourteen days, sixteen hours, thirty minutes, and twenty two seconds. I was running farther from my past and farther from my life.