A Princess's Story
The night sky was gray and it looked as if it was going to rain any second. I knew that I should be getting back to the lodging house, but I didn't want to. Sometimes I just needed to be alone. Yeah, sure I was the friendly newsie that everyone went to for advice. Best friends with everyone. But that is not what I was feeling right now. I couldn't turn to anyone at this moment, I always became depressed during the seasons. I always became filled with wonderment as to what my parents were like. It was also depressing to think that around date 9 years ago, the nuns at the orphanage, who had become like mothers to me were killed in the fire, which I had barely escaped from. It was especially hard for me to imagine that Sister Mary had died. She was like my foster mother. Caring for me all the time. That's how I got the nickname Princess, and it just kind of stuck, because all the kids at the orphanage used to call me Princess due to the fact that she always would baby me. On the outside it just looked like I got a few more hugs than the rest of them from her, but on the inside they other children just didn't know the effect that she had on my life. At that age, I had always wanted to be an artist. Most of the other nuns thought it was just one of my childhood phase that I would eventually grow out of, but Sister Mary, well she actually believed in me. The words of her support echoed through my mind at this point. 'I believe in you, but you, my princess, must believe in yourself.'
I remembered the time when I was about to get adopted. Most of the nuns were rejoicing at this happy news, but oddly enough, Sister Mary was not rejoicing at all. She thought by the looks of them that this adoptive parents would not treat me right and she was exactly right.
FLASHBACK
'Goodbye my princess, remember what I told you.'
'Yes Sister Mary.'
At that we gave our last hugs and I waved goodbye as my I looked onward to a knew life. At this time I was six years old. Naïve, but ready for adventure. My adoptive parents seemed perfect in my eyes. From the looks of them, they looked not extremely rich, but they owned a 'restaurant' putting them in good economic standing, but I later learned that there means of money making was being the owners of the hottest tavern in town. Because of this, I, a six year old girl who was used to being in an orphanage with nuns, was forced to serve drunk men until late hours in the night. It turned out that the reason my adoptive parents adopted me was because they needed some extra hands helping serving. Being a six year old girl not accustomed to this lifestyle I was sometimes slow, so this caused my adoptive father to have to beat me. At first it was just a hard punch or kick if I was being slow with the orders, but as the months dragged on and the money was not coming in, the beating became regular. Finally one day I ran away, and went back to the orphanage. The nuns were upset that I had come back, for they thought that they had established a nice home for me, but with the help of Sister Mary, we both were able to persuade the rest of them that what they considered a good home was the cause of all the bruises on my body.
I was seven then, I didn't get adopted. Then the fire happened. I was able to get out, but no one else that I know of survived. I remember the nuns waking us up and telling us to evacuate the building. Sister Mary came to me telling me to run out of the building. I didn't want to leave her, but I she forced me out of the building by saying that she would follow me. As I ran out of the building it blew up. I took on last look at the orphanage and a tear fell from my eye. With that I ran, without looking back ever again.
The next two years of my life were terrible. I slept on the street, or if I was lucky an old warehouse. I had to make money some how, but no one would seem to hire a girl. After a while I had to start stealing. I was starving and there wasn't much else to do. At times I though about becoming a newsie, but at that time there were no girl newsies and I was sure that I didn't want to cause any problems. This stealing thing went on for a while, don't get me wrong, I wasn't I big thief or anything. I just stole an apple or so when I was hungry and so fourth. Nothing like a big time pickpocket. But eventually I got caught and thrown into the refuge. That's when I met Racetrack, my best friend,. He helped me get out of the refuge and then offered to let me become a newsie. At first I thought it an absurd idea but then after a while, I realized that it was my only option and I had to comply.
When I became a newsie at first I felt out of place. Everyone was already friends with eachother, and the fact that I was the only gril made it strange for me. Don't get me wrong, I was not a girly girl, but I was not a major tom boy either. Those first few years, I spent much of my freetime, either at Medda's or in Brooklyn to hang out with Spot. Although Racetrack would always be my best, Spot had over the years developed into one of my closet friends. The first year was a difficult one, I was only nine years old and I had difficulty selling. Growing up in an orphanage with a bunch of nuns made it diffucult for me to lie, or to let's say 'improve da truth.' Because of this the money came in slowly. Sometimes, I had difficulty payinf for the rent of the lodging house, but because no one wanted me to have to stay out in the cold because I was as they said 'a princess,' everyone helped out. Sometimes Racetrack would spot me the money, or some of the other newsies. On occasion, Kloppman would secretly let me stay for free saying, 'You remind me of my daughter,' and then he would abrubtly walk away. I knew not to look for any further explanation. Medda was also very kind. Although very different from most of the older women I knew when I was younger(for they were mostly nuns) she took a special role in my life, being the only women I came into contact with, for I was living among a bunch of boys.
As time grew by I became better as a newsies. Obviously not the best newsies, but I earned enough to survive. I also was beginning to fit in more. My friendships with the rest of the newsies were developing quickly. I guess now I should get one with my story.
TIBBY'S
I walked into to the "newsie hangout" happily. For I had made enough money to get a nice lunch and then possibly head of the races with Racetrack.
"Eye der Pri, you'se look unusually happy." Race said.
"Got yer eye on a new guy?" Blink said slyly.
"Geez Blink, I wouldn't be talking, Mr. How many dumb girls can I date in a week." I said trying to close the subject. But to no avail. For they kept on joking.
See my dating guys was a difficult subject for them, especially Race. He was very OVERPROTECTIVE of me and that meant that whenever some guy came over to take me out to eat, he would go on and on about how if he hurt me all the Manhatten newsies would be after him and soak him. Usually that scared them away pretty quickly. Don't get me wrong, none of the guys that I usually ended up dating were of any substance. But I really just hoped that one day I would find the one person who made me incredibly happy and that I could do the same for them. I was tuned out of my perfect life dream when I hear a particularly interesting comment.
"Wouldn't Skits be jealous if she was someones girl."
I looked at Skittery to see his reaction guessing that he would just scowl and the rest of them and tell them to shove it where the sun don't shine but instead a saw a glimpse of a red face and saw him turn around. I didn't really think twice about the meaning but I figured for his sake I should try and get the subject off of him.
After taking one last bite of my sandwhich, I brushed off my hands and said,
"ey Race…come on we have to git to the races soon if you wanna lose all ya profits."
"haha very funny pri-but I can't go today-swary."
"Naw its okay..probably better for youse anways..maybe one day you'll get smart and save your money rather than try to lose it all at the traks."
"Yeah, yeah, thanks muddah."
"Speaking of muddering…how bout stop smoking that stupid cigarre before it kills ya." I said quickly.
"I poisnoly like da idea of killin meself this ways."
"Yer crazy." I said laughingly while also getting up.
"Hey, where youse goin?" Racetrack inquired.
"Haven't seen Spot in a while."
I said my goodbyes to them and started my journey from Manhattan into Brooklyn, Spot Conlon's territory, or Spoty boy-as I so affectionetly call him---which he hates by the way. Although Racetrack will always be my best friend, Spot is definitely up there-but it was not always that way.
FLASHBACK
I had just gotten out of the refuge and Race was taking me to the lodging house. I was quite nervous in fact and Race obviously new that.
"Chill out Pri, dey are gonna love yas. Dey have to." I smiled but I wasn't to convinced.
We finally got up to a sign that said NEWSBOY LODGING HOUSE----I took a deep breath and walked in. What I saw was a bunch of boys. Some were hanging out while others were in an intense game of poker. I looked over a Race and he said something along the lines of.
"Ey boys boys, trying to play pokah wid out me eh?"
"Nah, Race, the games jist aren't as interesting widout you." A boy who I later learned to be Jack Kelly, or Cowboy as some called him.
"And whose dis?" He questioned afterwards.
"Dis is Pri, I met her at the refuge. She's gonna stay er wid us, if dat's okay wid everyone."
"Well, as leadah of dis lodgin house, and a most respectful one, I must add," he said jokingly so I knew that it was a joke, "id would be our pleasure to have youse stay wid us."
"well, thank youse, but could ya do me a favor. Introduce me to the rest of these people!!."
"Sure, no problem." And at that he went around the room telling me the names of all the people who would soon become some of my best friends. When he was about finished someone came running into the room. Everyone quickly looked up but went back to what they were doing
The night sky was gray and it looked as if it was going to rain any second. I knew that I should be getting back to the lodging house, but I didn't want to. Sometimes I just needed to be alone. Yeah, sure I was the friendly newsie that everyone went to for advice. Best friends with everyone. But that is not what I was feeling right now. I couldn't turn to anyone at this moment, I always became depressed during the seasons. I always became filled with wonderment as to what my parents were like. It was also depressing to think that around date 9 years ago, the nuns at the orphanage, who had become like mothers to me were killed in the fire, which I had barely escaped from. It was especially hard for me to imagine that Sister Mary had died. She was like my foster mother. Caring for me all the time. That's how I got the nickname Princess, and it just kind of stuck, because all the kids at the orphanage used to call me Princess due to the fact that she always would baby me. On the outside it just looked like I got a few more hugs than the rest of them from her, but on the inside they other children just didn't know the effect that she had on my life. At that age, I had always wanted to be an artist. Most of the other nuns thought it was just one of my childhood phase that I would eventually grow out of, but Sister Mary, well she actually believed in me. The words of her support echoed through my mind at this point. 'I believe in you, but you, my princess, must believe in yourself.'
I remembered the time when I was about to get adopted. Most of the nuns were rejoicing at this happy news, but oddly enough, Sister Mary was not rejoicing at all. She thought by the looks of them that this adoptive parents would not treat me right and she was exactly right.
FLASHBACK
'Goodbye my princess, remember what I told you.'
'Yes Sister Mary.'
At that we gave our last hugs and I waved goodbye as my I looked onward to a knew life. At this time I was six years old. Naïve, but ready for adventure. My adoptive parents seemed perfect in my eyes. From the looks of them, they looked not extremely rich, but they owned a 'restaurant' putting them in good economic standing, but I later learned that there means of money making was being the owners of the hottest tavern in town. Because of this, I, a six year old girl who was used to being in an orphanage with nuns, was forced to serve drunk men until late hours in the night. It turned out that the reason my adoptive parents adopted me was because they needed some extra hands helping serving. Being a six year old girl not accustomed to this lifestyle I was sometimes slow, so this caused my adoptive father to have to beat me. At first it was just a hard punch or kick if I was being slow with the orders, but as the months dragged on and the money was not coming in, the beating became regular. Finally one day I ran away, and went back to the orphanage. The nuns were upset that I had come back, for they thought that they had established a nice home for me, but with the help of Sister Mary, we both were able to persuade the rest of them that what they considered a good home was the cause of all the bruises on my body.
I was seven then, I didn't get adopted. Then the fire happened. I was able to get out, but no one else that I know of survived. I remember the nuns waking us up and telling us to evacuate the building. Sister Mary came to me telling me to run out of the building. I didn't want to leave her, but I she forced me out of the building by saying that she would follow me. As I ran out of the building it blew up. I took on last look at the orphanage and a tear fell from my eye. With that I ran, without looking back ever again.
The next two years of my life were terrible. I slept on the street, or if I was lucky an old warehouse. I had to make money some how, but no one would seem to hire a girl. After a while I had to start stealing. I was starving and there wasn't much else to do. At times I though about becoming a newsie, but at that time there were no girl newsies and I was sure that I didn't want to cause any problems. This stealing thing went on for a while, don't get me wrong, I wasn't I big thief or anything. I just stole an apple or so when I was hungry and so fourth. Nothing like a big time pickpocket. But eventually I got caught and thrown into the refuge. That's when I met Racetrack, my best friend,. He helped me get out of the refuge and then offered to let me become a newsie. At first I thought it an absurd idea but then after a while, I realized that it was my only option and I had to comply.
When I became a newsie at first I felt out of place. Everyone was already friends with eachother, and the fact that I was the only gril made it strange for me. Don't get me wrong, I was not a girly girl, but I was not a major tom boy either. Those first few years, I spent much of my freetime, either at Medda's or in Brooklyn to hang out with Spot. Although Racetrack would always be my best, Spot had over the years developed into one of my closet friends. The first year was a difficult one, I was only nine years old and I had difficulty selling. Growing up in an orphanage with a bunch of nuns made it diffucult for me to lie, or to let's say 'improve da truth.' Because of this the money came in slowly. Sometimes, I had difficulty payinf for the rent of the lodging house, but because no one wanted me to have to stay out in the cold because I was as they said 'a princess,' everyone helped out. Sometimes Racetrack would spot me the money, or some of the other newsies. On occasion, Kloppman would secretly let me stay for free saying, 'You remind me of my daughter,' and then he would abrubtly walk away. I knew not to look for any further explanation. Medda was also very kind. Although very different from most of the older women I knew when I was younger(for they were mostly nuns) she took a special role in my life, being the only women I came into contact with, for I was living among a bunch of boys.
As time grew by I became better as a newsies. Obviously not the best newsies, but I earned enough to survive. I also was beginning to fit in more. My friendships with the rest of the newsies were developing quickly. I guess now I should get one with my story.
TIBBY'S
I walked into to the "newsie hangout" happily. For I had made enough money to get a nice lunch and then possibly head of the races with Racetrack.
"Eye der Pri, you'se look unusually happy." Race said.
"Got yer eye on a new guy?" Blink said slyly.
"Geez Blink, I wouldn't be talking, Mr. How many dumb girls can I date in a week." I said trying to close the subject. But to no avail. For they kept on joking.
See my dating guys was a difficult subject for them, especially Race. He was very OVERPROTECTIVE of me and that meant that whenever some guy came over to take me out to eat, he would go on and on about how if he hurt me all the Manhatten newsies would be after him and soak him. Usually that scared them away pretty quickly. Don't get me wrong, none of the guys that I usually ended up dating were of any substance. But I really just hoped that one day I would find the one person who made me incredibly happy and that I could do the same for them. I was tuned out of my perfect life dream when I hear a particularly interesting comment.
"Wouldn't Skits be jealous if she was someones girl."
I looked at Skittery to see his reaction guessing that he would just scowl and the rest of them and tell them to shove it where the sun don't shine but instead a saw a glimpse of a red face and saw him turn around. I didn't really think twice about the meaning but I figured for his sake I should try and get the subject off of him.
After taking one last bite of my sandwhich, I brushed off my hands and said,
"ey Race…come on we have to git to the races soon if you wanna lose all ya profits."
"haha very funny pri-but I can't go today-swary."
"Naw its okay..probably better for youse anways..maybe one day you'll get smart and save your money rather than try to lose it all at the traks."
"Yeah, yeah, thanks muddah."
"Speaking of muddering…how bout stop smoking that stupid cigarre before it kills ya." I said quickly.
"I poisnoly like da idea of killin meself this ways."
"Yer crazy." I said laughingly while also getting up.
"Hey, where youse goin?" Racetrack inquired.
"Haven't seen Spot in a while."
I said my goodbyes to them and started my journey from Manhattan into Brooklyn, Spot Conlon's territory, or Spoty boy-as I so affectionetly call him---which he hates by the way. Although Racetrack will always be my best friend, Spot is definitely up there-but it was not always that way.
FLASHBACK
I had just gotten out of the refuge and Race was taking me to the lodging house. I was quite nervous in fact and Race obviously new that.
"Chill out Pri, dey are gonna love yas. Dey have to." I smiled but I wasn't to convinced.
We finally got up to a sign that said NEWSBOY LODGING HOUSE----I took a deep breath and walked in. What I saw was a bunch of boys. Some were hanging out while others were in an intense game of poker. I looked over a Race and he said something along the lines of.
"Ey boys boys, trying to play pokah wid out me eh?"
"Nah, Race, the games jist aren't as interesting widout you." A boy who I later learned to be Jack Kelly, or Cowboy as some called him.
"And whose dis?" He questioned afterwards.
"Dis is Pri, I met her at the refuge. She's gonna stay er wid us, if dat's okay wid everyone."
"Well, as leadah of dis lodgin house, and a most respectful one, I must add," he said jokingly so I knew that it was a joke, "id would be our pleasure to have youse stay wid us."
"well, thank youse, but could ya do me a favor. Introduce me to the rest of these people!!."
"Sure, no problem." And at that he went around the room telling me the names of all the people who would soon become some of my best friends. When he was about finished someone came running into the room. Everyone quickly looked up but went back to what they were doing