A/N: This was going to be a long one shot for my friend Becky, but then it turned into chapter 1 of I don't know how many more. Basically it will be snippets of Skittery's life— not necessarily in order. This is more of a prologue chapter.


Izajasz Zyskowski had always known that there was something wrong with him. No one ever had to say anything, it was just implied that he would never be as good as his older brothers and sisters. It was always odd to think about, because most families— from what Izajasz had seen, had cherished the baby over all the other children. He didn't want to be selfish and want that for himself, but he would have liked something, anything. Anything other than the silence when he tugged on his sister's apron, hungry because he hadn't eaten since the day before. Anything other than the brutal beatings his eldest brother and father bestowed upon up nightly, his cries drowned out by the rest of his family laughing in the parlor. Anything other than being the reason his mama died.

But he was the reason, and no matter what he did, he couldn't change that. He was 'born of sin,' as his father always told him, 'and you will forever just cause pain.' And Izajasz believed him, believed his brothers and sisters, who all said the same to him— fulfilled in their life and happy, watching him starve and hunger.

His sister forgot him at the marketplace one day when he was ten. In hindsight, Izajasz should have realized it wasn't an accident at all— that there was a reason she took him to one he had never been to before, no one wanted him to find his way back. But still, calling until the dusk came, wandering around the empty stalls and finally sleeping, curled up tight in an alley that was warmer than his closet at home, he waited for her to come and get him. She never did.

A light tapping on his arm woke him, and a hurried 'I didn't do it!' came from his lips, before he winced, anticipating the hit that would come from his 'transgression.'

"Didn't do what, kid?" came a voice from above him, and Izajasz blinked, looking up at the slightly older boy. "People say they didn't do something, it ain't likely that they actually didn't. What'd you do?"

"Nothing," Izajasz replied, flushing and looking down at nothing. "I never do anything bad. They say I do, but I don't."

"Ah."

Izajasz looked up and tilted his head, still hunched into himself, but a little less wary of the boy who didn't seem to want to hit him.

"I'm Alfred, but everyone calls me Snoddy. What's your name, kid?"

"Izajasz," he replied softly, standing up as the older boy urged him to.

"Well, Skittery, you're going to be staying with the newsboys from now on, okay? How well can you lie? That's the only way you'll survive outta the orphanages, and no one wants to go there."

"I always lie," Izajasz mumbled, following exactly three steps behind Alfred— Snoddy.

He didn't know anything about being a 'newsboy' or about why his name was changed, but he knew that his sister wouldn't be coming. No one would be coming. His life wouldn't be harder— he could control everything, something that had never happened for him before. No one screaming and yelling and hitting him for no reason. And maybe, one day, he could actually believe that he had not killed his mama by being born. Maybe one day…