The story of my life
She was a gambler, like him. She wasn't rich at all but she sure dressed like she was. She was absolutely beautiful. Her name was Lilly. He pulled her close and leaned in to kiss her...
My alarm went off. I sat up and looked around my tiny room. In reality it was the old supply closet for the New York Times. I got a job here when my mom spent all her money and couldn't support me and I couldn't afford college. The Times gave me a job and cleaned out the closet so I could live there for free and not worry about debts. I got ready for work, and donned a newsie cap. I walked down to Broadway where a crowd was waiting to be let into a show. I sat down by the stand and sold papers, I always sang this little song when I sold, 'cause it was sad and made people buy the papers. There weren't many sales that day so I walked down to this little doll shop that my mom took me when I was little. It has doors that look into different time periods where that particular doll lived. I especially liked the door that looked into 1901. I sat down, my back against the door, and sang softly to myself.
"Met a Newsie on the corner of South and Duane, Stole my heart as well as my pocket change.." After a while I got bored people watching and put my hand on the knob and stood up, the knob turned and I stared at it nervously, mainly because the door was open just a crack and daylight was coming out the other side. I pinched myself. I wasn't dreaming. I opened the door a little more and peeked in, it wasn't a movie screen. I walked in. It was really 1901, the clothing, the smells, there were newsboys on every street corner. I smiled, this was a dream. I walked in and closed the door behind me. I looked around, I was near the Brooklyn bridge, I have always wanted to see it. As I walked across, I felt like someone was watching me. I turned around, No one. Strange. I kept on walking and sat down to watch the boats on the river. Someone tapped my shoulder. I turned around. There was an older woman who was dressed in rich fabrics. She looked angry.
"Young Lady! You should be ashamed of yourself dressing so inappropriately! Where are your parents?" I looked down at my deep brown shorts that were halfway up my thigh paired with plum colored tights, a tee shirt that said "Newsies, The Musical", a cabbie hat, and gray high tops.
"My dad died in the war, my mom can't afford to support me right now."
"Do you have a brother? He should be making sure you dress like a proper young lady!" She was very angry and was waving her parasol at me like a sword. I backed up, someone draped their arm around my shoulder. There was a boy about the same age as me with sandy brown hair, ice blue-ish gray eyes, and a glare. He was maybe half an inch shorter than me. He was dressed like a newsboy and had a cane and slingshot hanging from his suspenders. He looked like he wasn't the person to have angry at you.
"Yes, yes she does. And I do look out for her, but she's a newsie same as me and we don't have time or money to make sure she wears what pleases you." He said sharply. He turned around and dragged me with him.
"Look, thanks for helping me, but I gotta be on my way," We were headed toward the other side of the bridge. I was getting nervous. There were people just like him or scarier all over the docks. He sat down and motioned for me to do the same. I sat.
"Who you running from? You're pretty cute for a runaway. Who's girl are you?" He asked still looking intimidating.
"I'm Lilly, I'm no one's girl. I'm not running."
"So you're not from around here?"
"Look, thanks for helping but I'm not answering questions thrown at me by some wierdo I don't know, who's scaring the crap out of me!"
"Quite the temper huh? You Irish ain't ya?" He said standing up.
"Yeah, so?"
"So where ya live? can't have you walking around by yourself in a big place like Brooklyn."
"Don't patronize me!" his eyes narrowed.
"Do you know who I am?" he said in an angry tone.
"Um, No." I admitted.
"I'm the person your leader should have warned you about. The person that could have you're reputation ruined in an hour flat. I'm the King of Brooklyn. Tell me where you'se from." I glared at him.
"Manhattan."
"Jack's goil, yeah? Well remember today as a warning, that mouth of yours will get you in trouble with me one of these days. Let's get ya over there." We walked down to Manhattan quietly talking.
"What's your name?"
"Spot."
"You're newsie name?"
"Yep."
"You're quite fond of one word answers aren't ya?"
"And you're a walking mouth." He replied gruffly.
"Touche."
"What?"
"Never mind, it's some fancy french word for we're even."
"You speak french? You some rich girl?"
"No, I dropped outta school 'cause my mom couldn't afford it. I'm on my own now."
"Oh."
"So where you from, Mr Grumpy?"
"Excuse me? I'm not grumpy, I have a lot to think about, I'm the King of Brooklyn!"