My first chapter…yay! Well, I don't know if I need to do this, but everyone else seems to, so why not be a sheep? Disclaimer: I don't own the newsies, they're just locked up in my closet, the other main characters own themselves, please don't sue me, yadda yadda yadda.
"Extra, extra!" cried Racetrack Higgins as he walked by the Sheepshead Races attempting to sell the evening edition of the World. He had been selling for what seemed like hours, yet he had sold only a little more than half of his stack of papers. As the darkness became thicker and the crowds thinner, he reluctantly accepted the fact that he couldn't sell anymore papers that evening and would have to return to the lodging house with only just enough money to pay the night's rent. He thought mournfully of the dinner he wouldn't have and of borrowing money off his friends to buy papers the next day. 'Could things worse?' he thought and it promptly began to rain.
He was within sight of the lodging house when a man ran out of an alley and jumped in front of him. In the dim light Racetrack could see the older man's face looked pale, worn, and mildly insane. His outfit appeared normal, except for a strange pair of red, canvas shoes.
"Here," said the man offering a small trinket to Racetrack. Race just stared at him bewildered. "For God's sake, please, take it! I can't stand it anymore!" the man screamed. Racetrack, still bewildered, took the object. With that, the man ran – no…was he skipping? -- away and shouted "Haha, free!"
Race stared at the mysterious object. It was a miniature hourglass with bright blue sand inside. The frame appeared to be made of real gold. Why had the man just given it to him? If it was in fact real gold, the piece could have been sold for a good deal of money. Stranger still, was how happy he seemed to be to get rid of the glass. Racetrack hurried to the lodging house, both to get out of the rain and to tell his friends of this strange event.
Once inside, he related the strange encounter to his friends – Spot, Snitch, Jack, and Specs – who were previously engaged in a game of poker. "So why do you think he was so glad to get rid of the thing?" asked Specs.
"I dunno," admitted Race. "Maybe he stole it off a dead guy or somethin',"
"I doubt it. What sorta dead guy carries an hour glass with him?" said Snitch.
"How should I know what dead guys like to carry? All I know is, it can't be just a normal thing. There must be somethin' more to it." Racetrack replied.
"Maybe it's cursed. Or magic." Jack said, remembering stories his mother used to tell him when he was little. "I mean, not like I believe in that stuff or anything," he added hastily.
"So, maybe we should try flipping it? To see if it works…" suggested Specs. The others nodded in agreement. This was followed by a long pause. "Does anyone wanna go first," he added. Another long pause.
"Why don't we all go at the same time?" said Spot. The others agreed with quiet 'yeah's and 'ok's. Slowly, they all held or touched some part of the glass. "On three," said Spot. "One…two…three!" In one swift motion they turned the glass upside down.
The bright blue sand trickled down. The room disappeared. The newsboys felt as if their bodies were being torn apart, pulled in a million directions as they drifted in an endless sea of blackness. Then it stopped. On a top bunk in the newsies' lodging house where minutes earlier five boys and a small gold hourglass had been, there was now nothing.