a/n: I don't own Newsies. Please review and don't be harsh! Actually…I don't care if you're harsh. I just want feedback.
And there I was. Alone, above all things. The streets were cold against my fearful, shaking skin. I was restless and wet and sad, mostly. To describe my defeat I would have to use the words…'thrown away' or 'kicked out'. My 'parents' didn't want me. And so, into the cold, heartless world I go.
I sat up on my bruised ass, and looked into the dark night. The streets of Brooklyn looked uninviting but where was a homeless girl supposed to go? I stood up, my back and every other bone in my body aching. Wanted my mother. I wanted her comforting, loving arms around me, telling me it would be okay as she dabbed away the sores. But no. She had to die. She just had to. Right when my little sister, Sylvie, and I needed her most. Then Father had to marry that horrid Odette. Then he had to die. Then Odette had to turn us into slaves.
My life was over and now, poor little Sylvie would be living the life of terror. Fright. Wanting nothing more than her own mother, a kiss goodnight, and her sister. But Odette threatened that if I stepped foot in the house ever, I could kiss Sylvie's and my own life goodbye. Poor Sylvie. She was forced to clean, cook, and whatever Odette made her do…she was only nine.
As I wandered down the streets of Brooklyn I tried to find a place to stay for the night. A porch of some lodging house looked welcoming enough, compared to the other bare porches, but this one happened to be right next to where I was standing. I took a seat on the step and looked down the streets. Sylvie was down there, crying. If I listened hard enough, I could hear it. My heart went out to her but I couldn't do anything, as crazy as it sounded, for her own wellbeing.
"Sitting there won't solve you're problems," I heard someone say. I whipped my head up to see a young, teenaged boy about my age standing in front of me. He was puffing on a cigarette and had an evil smirk about his face. His grey-blue eyes delved down at me. I stood up, and straightened out my rumpled skirt.
"U-uh, I just…um, you know," I couldn't think of much to say. I mean, I hadn't even asked to sleep on their porch.
"Let me guess…runaway?" he asked me. I was speechless. This boy had taken the breath away from me. Not from charm, or looks, but with his whole being. I was truly frightened.
"I was kicked out," I stated, flatly. I couldn't let this guy watch himself get to me. I had to act like I knew what I was talking about and let him feel like the underdog.
"For what? You like you couldn't harm a fly," he eyed me up and down. I crossed my arms and narrowed my eyes at him.
"Maybe not a fly," I said sweetly and I saw a grin out of his face. Then my sweet tone sunk. "…but I could definitely do some damage to that face of yours,"
"Well, well, well, are you challenging me?" he asked and I raised an eyebrow.
"No. I was just letting you know that if you come any closer, my fist might interfere with your personal bubble," I told him and he laughed. It wasn't a laugh, so much as it was 'pfa'. He shook his head.
"Why are you on my porch anyway, Sweetie?" he asked me.
"I'm sorry Honey, but I believe this porch belongs to…" I leaned back and looked up at the sign on top of the door. "…the Brooklyn Newsies," I spat back in his face. He chuckled.
"I see you don't know who I am," he said and I rolled my eyes.
"What made you say that? The fact that I didn't squeal your name and give a big greeting or the fact that you're not dead yet?" I asked with sarcastic sweetness. He make a 'ha' noise.
"I'll take that as a 'yes'." He said.
"Well that was a given," I scoffed.
"I happen to be the leader of the Brooklyn Newsies," he said, waiting for my reaction.
"Oh my apologies sir, won't you let me move out of the way so you don't have to go through the trouble of squeezing by to get into your shitty lodging house," I sarcastically acted like I was afraid.
"It's better than where you're living, which is…um, let me thing, no where." He said and my pride felt dented but I didn't give in. This guy was asking for it.
"Whatever, nice meeting you," I turned to leave. I didn't need to deal with this bullshit.
"Wait," I heard him call after me and I turned around.
"What?" asked, harshly. He was most likely going to offer me to stay for the night and I might as well, considering…
"You didn't tell me your name," he said and I rolled my eyes and turned around to leave again.
"I'm Spot," he said and I whipped around again.
"I think I had a dog named Spot once," I said, my face straight. And then I turned was on my way, leaving him alone.
a/n: do you think this is going somewhere? I was just really bored and came up with this. Hopefully I'll add to it, cause as I was writing I kept picturing a full length story. I feel like this could go somewhere! Please PLEASE review, I love reviews.
They keep me alive!
-Nicki3