*Author's Note*
One more thing...you'll notice that it's from Spot's POV, but there's no accent
this is b/c writing a whole story in an accent would be too hard...sorry.
Chapter 2:
"Excuse me." She said and reached down to pick up a book. I leaned
over to see what she had been reading when we collided. It was something by
this guy named Dickens. Never heard of him.
"Ya need any help deah?" I asked, praying she would.
"No. I'm fine thanks." She said, and looked up at me. Her eyes,
so blue and clear, just stared for a moment. "Do I know you?" She finally
asked.
"Uh, no. Don't think I evah seen ya befoah."
"You look so familiar." You ever notice how familiar sure sounds a
lot like family?
"Well, I been sellin' heah foah awhile. Ya prolly just seen me
around." I told her. Those eyes, like the color of heaven, they just looked
ahead. I felt like she was staring into my soul, like she could see my secret
I was keeping from her.
"Listen, I was just headed back to my apartment. Would you like to
come up for tea? I'm sure my ma wouldn't mind." Thank you. That's what I
wanted to hear.
"Ya look like ya nine yeahs old. Ya ma wouldn't mind a strangah
comin' inta yoah house fah no reason?"
"She's a nice lady; she won't bite. Aren't you thirsty?" She asked.
"Yeah. Why not?" So we walked back to her house, and on the way I
sold my last papes for the evening. It was about five o'clock. As we turned
on to her street though, I started to get this gnawing feeling. What if my
mother remembered me, and told me to leave this kid alone. Or worse, what if
she didn't remember at all. "Uh, Emily, maybe I should get back ta da lodgin'
house. Err...the boys, they'se might be getting' worried and awll."
"Oh, come on, just a-wait a second. How'd you know my name?"
"Um...you told me."
"No I didn't." Then I saw a light bulb click in her head. "If you
follow me home, and have one cup of tea with me and my mother, I won't ask
you how you knew my name." She was smart for a little kid.
"Well, I guess I ain't got a choice den." I told her. She looked
at me questioning for a second, as if she were about to ask something, but
she gave up and started walking instead.
We walked into the building, and to the door on the right. She lived
on the first floor. As I walked in, I felt a familiar presence. I glanced
to my left, and at the stove there was a lady hunched over, making what smelled
like a home-cooked meal.
"Ma, I'm home. Whatcha cookin'?" My kid sister asked my abandoner. The mother turned around, and all the sudden, I felt like I was naked in front of all of Manhattan.
"What are you doing here?" She asked, glaring at
One more thing...you'll notice that it's from Spot's POV, but there's no accent
this is b/c writing a whole story in an accent would be too hard...sorry.
Chapter 2:
"Excuse me." She said and reached down to pick up a book. I leaned
over to see what she had been reading when we collided. It was something by
this guy named Dickens. Never heard of him.
"Ya need any help deah?" I asked, praying she would.
"No. I'm fine thanks." She said, and looked up at me. Her eyes,
so blue and clear, just stared for a moment. "Do I know you?" She finally
asked.
"Uh, no. Don't think I evah seen ya befoah."
"You look so familiar." You ever notice how familiar sure sounds a
lot like family?
"Well, I been sellin' heah foah awhile. Ya prolly just seen me
around." I told her. Those eyes, like the color of heaven, they just looked
ahead. I felt like she was staring into my soul, like she could see my secret
I was keeping from her.
"Listen, I was just headed back to my apartment. Would you like to
come up for tea? I'm sure my ma wouldn't mind." Thank you. That's what I
wanted to hear.
"Ya look like ya nine yeahs old. Ya ma wouldn't mind a strangah
comin' inta yoah house fah no reason?"
"She's a nice lady; she won't bite. Aren't you thirsty?" She asked.
"Yeah. Why not?" So we walked back to her house, and on the way I
sold my last papes for the evening. It was about five o'clock. As we turned
on to her street though, I started to get this gnawing feeling. What if my
mother remembered me, and told me to leave this kid alone. Or worse, what if
she didn't remember at all. "Uh, Emily, maybe I should get back ta da lodgin'
house. Err...the boys, they'se might be getting' worried and awll."
"Oh, come on, just a-wait a second. How'd you know my name?"
"Um...you told me."
"No I didn't." Then I saw a light bulb click in her head. "If you
follow me home, and have one cup of tea with me and my mother, I won't ask
you how you knew my name." She was smart for a little kid.
"Well, I guess I ain't got a choice den." I told her. She looked
at me questioning for a second, as if she were about to ask something, but
she gave up and started walking instead.
We walked into the building, and to the door on the right. She lived
on the first floor. As I walked in, I felt a familiar presence. I glanced
to my left, and at the stove there was a lady hunched over, making what smelled
like a home-cooked meal.
"Ma, I'm home. Whatcha cookin'?" My kid sister asked my abandoner. The mother turned around, and all the sudden, I felt like I was naked in front of all of Manhattan.
"What are you doing here?" She asked, glaring at