The sun was setting, and he was alone on the roof. Smoking a cigarette and drinking from an old bottle of whiskey. He had never been a huge drinker. Not until death came knocking on his door. He sat alone and afraid on the roof. The sky was a dark blood red and he hurried to write out his story. The story of then end of a lodger. He scrawled furiously on the faded paper, losing himself in the night that changed his life forever.
He sat next to the bed. Every single detail about the sickroom jumped out at him. He followed the patterns of the wood on the floor, up through the walls. To the bunks that were in here. The cabinet that provided the necessities for our health. Now he sat here, in the room, with his best friend laying on the bed next to him.
Her ashen colored skin was a sickening reminder of the whole situation. He had been in the sick room now, for over two hours while she slept. Her hand never left his. For two long hours he watched her breathe. The way the shadows hit her face in the dimly lit room at the late hours of the night. Her hair wet with sweat lay in wisps across her face, her jaw line cut at an angle exposing her neck, and her most horrific memories. Her lips were stained a dark shade of red stained from the blood that she was slowly drowning in. Her long eye lashes gently rested on her cheeks. She looked like an angel. The only thing that kept him there was the slow but steady rise and fall of her chest. Snitch tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and she muttered a few incoherent words in her sleep. One word, caught his attention.
'Skittery'
She stirred in her sleep and a small gasp of pain slipped through her chapped lips as she moved, before she started to cough. Her hand tightened around his, and he replied with a comforting squeeze back. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, then opened her eyes. Snitch gasped slightly. Her gray eyes, though nothing extremely special about it, were so full of emotion. He had never seen her like this before. He had never seen such passion, unless she was talking about Skittery, nor fear, as when she talked about Empire. So many emotions lost in a sea of tears that clouded her eyes.
"I'm so scared Snitch." she choked. Her voice was raspy and he nodded, he wasn't one for words.
"You're my best friend you know that right?" she asked him, never once taking her eyes off of her. Snitch nodded. Tears began to crawl down his cheeks.
"I know." he whispered, his voice cracking. She nodded.
"Good." she said as she took a deep breath that rattled in her throat. Snitch did know that. She told him. She had been nice enough to him even though he was the one who helped her leave all of the problems of her past, making her leave the Bronx. Irish had told him everything. She had confided in him secrets of her past, of her dreams and everything. He never once doubted a word she said.
"Where is Skittery?" she asked softly. He felt his body tense up.
"I don't know." he whispered to her. He knew, Skittery was out drinking. She knew where Skittery was. But she had hoped she'd be wrong. She nodded and he saw the tears creep down her cheeks.
"I thought I loved Death." she started off softly.
"I mean, I did love him. But it wasn't the same thing. Ya know? Death was a great guy, he treated me right for the most part. But there is something about Skittery. So moving. So inspiring." she paused trying to control her emotions. This was the raw uncut version that no one else had heard. Just him.
"When we first met, I wanted to do nothing more then just sit with him, even if we didn't talk. I wanted to hold him. Tell him everything was okay. But I couldn't. When I kissed him, while we were in Central Park, that night under the stars and the moon. I kissed him with everything I had. Nothing was held back. And for a minute there. When he kissed me. I just wanted to look at him and say.
"For a minute there, I thought you just told me you loved me.'" she stopped talking, obviously in pain. Snitch nodded. He knew what she felt.
"You do me a favor Snitch?" she asked him after a few moment silence.
"Anything Jo." he said softly using her original nickname.
"You make sure he makes it through all right? I know he can." she whispered. Snitch nodded. How she seemed to keep faith in the boy was beyond him. But he nodded just the same.
"Promise?" she asked opening her eyes to look at him. He nodded kissing her hand.
"Promise."
In a matter of seconds the soft ragged breathing of the girl met his ears as she quickly fell back to sleep. He rather he sleep and save up her energy then anything. She was holding on. She had to see Skittery.
He heard a soft knock at the door. He arose and answered it. He was shocked to see Skittery, Death, Spitball, Macbeth, Ershey and Pomp all outside the sick room. Shocked he sat down in the lobby.
"Where is Relic?" he asked carefully. No one answered him. Ershey finally forced a muttered.
'I don't know.'
He looked at Skittery.
"You better start saying your good byes." he said as he went out looking for Relic.
And they did. Every person within the lobby had uttered at least a simple good bye. Death had long since left. Everyone sat out in the lobby, silent, waiting. Leaving Skittery and Irish alone during these final moments.
Skittery watched as every person came in and uttered their good byes. As soon as the Relic left he climbed into the bunk next to her. He pulled her close to him.
"Irish...I need you," he whispered, still trying to hold to the hope that she could pull through.
She clutched onto him, holding onto him the best she could.
"I love you." she whispered. Knowing it would be okay to go after she had uttered those words.
She felt his eyes upon her, studying her carefully. He kissed her forehead.
"I love you to."
Those were the words she had needed to hear. Nothing else mattered now. She closed her eyes tightly as pain seared through her chest. It was hard to breathe. She started to cough again, trying to hold on to him the best she could.
"Never forget that." she whispered after her coughing fit.
Skittery's arms were tight around her. Holding her, cradling her. He wasn't about to let go. He a weak smile onto his face, as if to please her.
"I won't forget." he whispered afraid his battle to hold back the tears would defeat him.
"You are nothing like everyone thinks. Don't give up on my Skitts, you better go out there head held high and make something of yourself." she said kissing his cheek. Tears started to fall again as she winced. She shivered.
"I'm so cold."
With those words whispered he held her as close to him as possible, hoping the heat from his body would go to her. He fought to hold back the tears. He kissed her, leaning his forehead against hers. He found no words to say. Afraid any speaking would betray him.
She started to cough again, then stopped and started to wheeze.
"I love you."
she took in a deep ragged breath, exhaling slowly, before her body relaxed. Every muscle loosened making her body go limp. Her eyes became like glass and she became lose in his arms. She died, silently in the arms of the man she loved. The tears still clinging to her face.
He felt the coldness of her body, the limp feeling in his arms. He no longer restrained the tears that began to fall.
"Irish, don't leave me," he begged in between sobs, waiting for her to open her eyes and just smile, just come back from this. To act as if it were just some cruel joke and a small smirk and a gentle kiss would make it all go away.
Death McCoy, ran in. He saw the girl, in the arms of Skittery. He could feel the coldness in the air. He backed himself up against the wall shaking his head.
"No.." he whispered. He turned and left the lodging house not looking back. Everything he lived for everything he had ever promised to do, ended that night. He headed towards Hell's Kitchen.
Snitch did what was necessary to help take care of the body of the girl. Then he left hastily after Death. He knew the tradgedy of the night wasn't over. He followed the fearless leader, as he stopped into Irving Hall for a drink. He downed two shots of Russian vodka before he looked around the room.
Snitch watched in horror as the boy pulled a gun from the inside of his clothing. He watched as he feared Death was going to begin picking people off, killing the innocent bystanders. Instead he stood near the bar, he caught eyes with Snitch. He put the pistol in his mouth.
The sun was gone and the moon cast eerie shadows along the rooftop. He gathered the papers into order. He counted the pages and tucked the stolen pencil behind his ear. A talent, which many did not have he possessed. He could read and write. He glanced up at the stars and with tears in his eyes. He silently said good bye to a leader who had taught him things and who had treated him as an equal. Derek "Death" McCoy wouldn't be forgotten. He stood up, leaving the nearly full bottle of whiskey to whom ever would discover it first, he shivered as a warm wind gently went through the air. He glanced up at the stars and smiled. He said his one last good bye to Josephine Ann Cadler, known to the newsie world as Irish.
He sat next to the bed. Every single detail about the sickroom jumped out at him. He followed the patterns of the wood on the floor, up through the walls. To the bunks that were in here. The cabinet that provided the necessities for our health. Now he sat here, in the room, with his best friend laying on the bed next to him.
Her ashen colored skin was a sickening reminder of the whole situation. He had been in the sick room now, for over two hours while she slept. Her hand never left his. For two long hours he watched her breathe. The way the shadows hit her face in the dimly lit room at the late hours of the night. Her hair wet with sweat lay in wisps across her face, her jaw line cut at an angle exposing her neck, and her most horrific memories. Her lips were stained a dark shade of red stained from the blood that she was slowly drowning in. Her long eye lashes gently rested on her cheeks. She looked like an angel. The only thing that kept him there was the slow but steady rise and fall of her chest. Snitch tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and she muttered a few incoherent words in her sleep. One word, caught his attention.
'Skittery'
She stirred in her sleep and a small gasp of pain slipped through her chapped lips as she moved, before she started to cough. Her hand tightened around his, and he replied with a comforting squeeze back. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, then opened her eyes. Snitch gasped slightly. Her gray eyes, though nothing extremely special about it, were so full of emotion. He had never seen her like this before. He had never seen such passion, unless she was talking about Skittery, nor fear, as when she talked about Empire. So many emotions lost in a sea of tears that clouded her eyes.
"I'm so scared Snitch." she choked. Her voice was raspy and he nodded, he wasn't one for words.
"You're my best friend you know that right?" she asked him, never once taking her eyes off of her. Snitch nodded. Tears began to crawl down his cheeks.
"I know." he whispered, his voice cracking. She nodded.
"Good." she said as she took a deep breath that rattled in her throat. Snitch did know that. She told him. She had been nice enough to him even though he was the one who helped her leave all of the problems of her past, making her leave the Bronx. Irish had told him everything. She had confided in him secrets of her past, of her dreams and everything. He never once doubted a word she said.
"Where is Skittery?" she asked softly. He felt his body tense up.
"I don't know." he whispered to her. He knew, Skittery was out drinking. She knew where Skittery was. But she had hoped she'd be wrong. She nodded and he saw the tears creep down her cheeks.
"I thought I loved Death." she started off softly.
"I mean, I did love him. But it wasn't the same thing. Ya know? Death was a great guy, he treated me right for the most part. But there is something about Skittery. So moving. So inspiring." she paused trying to control her emotions. This was the raw uncut version that no one else had heard. Just him.
"When we first met, I wanted to do nothing more then just sit with him, even if we didn't talk. I wanted to hold him. Tell him everything was okay. But I couldn't. When I kissed him, while we were in Central Park, that night under the stars and the moon. I kissed him with everything I had. Nothing was held back. And for a minute there. When he kissed me. I just wanted to look at him and say.
"For a minute there, I thought you just told me you loved me.'" she stopped talking, obviously in pain. Snitch nodded. He knew what she felt.
"You do me a favor Snitch?" she asked him after a few moment silence.
"Anything Jo." he said softly using her original nickname.
"You make sure he makes it through all right? I know he can." she whispered. Snitch nodded. How she seemed to keep faith in the boy was beyond him. But he nodded just the same.
"Promise?" she asked opening her eyes to look at him. He nodded kissing her hand.
"Promise."
In a matter of seconds the soft ragged breathing of the girl met his ears as she quickly fell back to sleep. He rather he sleep and save up her energy then anything. She was holding on. She had to see Skittery.
He heard a soft knock at the door. He arose and answered it. He was shocked to see Skittery, Death, Spitball, Macbeth, Ershey and Pomp all outside the sick room. Shocked he sat down in the lobby.
"Where is Relic?" he asked carefully. No one answered him. Ershey finally forced a muttered.
'I don't know.'
He looked at Skittery.
"You better start saying your good byes." he said as he went out looking for Relic.
And they did. Every person within the lobby had uttered at least a simple good bye. Death had long since left. Everyone sat out in the lobby, silent, waiting. Leaving Skittery and Irish alone during these final moments.
Skittery watched as every person came in and uttered their good byes. As soon as the Relic left he climbed into the bunk next to her. He pulled her close to him.
"Irish...I need you," he whispered, still trying to hold to the hope that she could pull through.
She clutched onto him, holding onto him the best she could.
"I love you." she whispered. Knowing it would be okay to go after she had uttered those words.
She felt his eyes upon her, studying her carefully. He kissed her forehead.
"I love you to."
Those were the words she had needed to hear. Nothing else mattered now. She closed her eyes tightly as pain seared through her chest. It was hard to breathe. She started to cough again, trying to hold on to him the best she could.
"Never forget that." she whispered after her coughing fit.
Skittery's arms were tight around her. Holding her, cradling her. He wasn't about to let go. He a weak smile onto his face, as if to please her.
"I won't forget." he whispered afraid his battle to hold back the tears would defeat him.
"You are nothing like everyone thinks. Don't give up on my Skitts, you better go out there head held high and make something of yourself." she said kissing his cheek. Tears started to fall again as she winced. She shivered.
"I'm so cold."
With those words whispered he held her as close to him as possible, hoping the heat from his body would go to her. He fought to hold back the tears. He kissed her, leaning his forehead against hers. He found no words to say. Afraid any speaking would betray him.
She started to cough again, then stopped and started to wheeze.
"I love you."
she took in a deep ragged breath, exhaling slowly, before her body relaxed. Every muscle loosened making her body go limp. Her eyes became like glass and she became lose in his arms. She died, silently in the arms of the man she loved. The tears still clinging to her face.
He felt the coldness of her body, the limp feeling in his arms. He no longer restrained the tears that began to fall.
"Irish, don't leave me," he begged in between sobs, waiting for her to open her eyes and just smile, just come back from this. To act as if it were just some cruel joke and a small smirk and a gentle kiss would make it all go away.
Death McCoy, ran in. He saw the girl, in the arms of Skittery. He could feel the coldness in the air. He backed himself up against the wall shaking his head.
"No.." he whispered. He turned and left the lodging house not looking back. Everything he lived for everything he had ever promised to do, ended that night. He headed towards Hell's Kitchen.
Snitch did what was necessary to help take care of the body of the girl. Then he left hastily after Death. He knew the tradgedy of the night wasn't over. He followed the fearless leader, as he stopped into Irving Hall for a drink. He downed two shots of Russian vodka before he looked around the room.
Snitch watched in horror as the boy pulled a gun from the inside of his clothing. He watched as he feared Death was going to begin picking people off, killing the innocent bystanders. Instead he stood near the bar, he caught eyes with Snitch. He put the pistol in his mouth.
The sun was gone and the moon cast eerie shadows along the rooftop. He gathered the papers into order. He counted the pages and tucked the stolen pencil behind his ear. A talent, which many did not have he possessed. He could read and write. He glanced up at the stars and with tears in his eyes. He silently said good bye to a leader who had taught him things and who had treated him as an equal. Derek "Death" McCoy wouldn't be forgotten. He stood up, leaving the nearly full bottle of whiskey to whom ever would discover it first, he shivered as a warm wind gently went through the air. He glanced up at the stars and smiled. He said his one last good bye to Josephine Ann Cadler, known to the newsie world as Irish.