God Save my Son written by Polecat
I hadn't expected to be the one out here. I never thought it'd be me searching through the nameless boys. I never imagined I'd be looking for my lost son.
As a boy, we had a dozen mother's and father's a month come in search of their child. The boy had run away because he had been hit or yelled at. Or maybe left home to help support his family.
We'd always say we never heard of him. Always said we never seen him, even if he was sitting right by our side.
The men would leave looking beaten and drawn. The women would sometimes break down in tears right in front of us.
One mother came nearly once a week. She'd search all of us, from the small right on up to kids bigger than her. Maybe she had forgotten what her son looked like. Maybe she had, but she never forgot how much she loved him, that was for sure.
Every time before she left, she'd cross herself and say, "God save my son." I always felt bad for her, but even if I knew who her son was, I'd never tell. It's the code of the newsies.
I search through all these nameless boys, faces smudged with dirt, innocence locked away behind hardened eyes. My boy had the sandiest brown hair when he left, was it as dark as his mother's now? His eyes were the most playful and beautiful color hazel, were they hardened by the street now too?
I ask every boy who will stop if they've seen him? He's not too tall, kind of skinny, only eight-- wait, no, he's nearly ten now. They say they've never heard of him. They say they've never seen him. Even if they had, they won't tell me, it's the newsies code.
My wife greets me at the door, I'm not even halfway up the stairs yet. Her eyes are wide and her face hopeful.
"Did you find him?"
I don't answer and squeeze past her into the apartment. The place still smells like him, like all little boys smell. It's a mix of candy and soap and mud. It's a sweet, sad smell.
His toys are still where he left them, my wife refuses to move a thing. I pick up his wooden sword, given to him by one of my friends for his sixth birthday.
If only I hadn't yelled at him. He was only a little boy, little boys break things, they cause mischief. I know this, I use to be one. Why didn't I stop to think before I lost my temper? Before I hit him.
"Honey, did you find him?"
She knows I didn't, if I did I wouldn't be holding his sword and holding back my tears. I can't bare to look her in the face, I can't watch her world collapse all over again.
"Skittery," her voice quivers. She knows, she going to cry. "Please, tell me that you..."
I wrap her in my arms as she breaks into sobs. I push her hair away from her face, kissing her gently on the temple. Her entire body shakes from her sobbing and my heart breaks. My heart is breaking over her heart ache, heart ache that I caused.
Holding her up with one arm, I make the sign of the cross over myself. "God save my son."
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Geez, I almost cried while writing this.
*Pie!Muse hugs Polecat* Awwww.
That part Patrick's mother sings is so inspiring to me, I might do more like this.
Also..... I don't get the chance to reply back and thank people for the reviews when I do one chapters. So I'd like to take that opportunity now. Thank you guys all so much for reading and reviewing. Even if you didn't review, you still read it so it counts. I appreciate all my reviews, I love them and you all totally make writing all the more fun. Okay, I'm gonna shut up now 'cause I'm feelin' all sentimental from this sappy story.
I hadn't expected to be the one out here. I never thought it'd be me searching through the nameless boys. I never imagined I'd be looking for my lost son.
As a boy, we had a dozen mother's and father's a month come in search of their child. The boy had run away because he had been hit or yelled at. Or maybe left home to help support his family.
We'd always say we never heard of him. Always said we never seen him, even if he was sitting right by our side.
The men would leave looking beaten and drawn. The women would sometimes break down in tears right in front of us.
One mother came nearly once a week. She'd search all of us, from the small right on up to kids bigger than her. Maybe she had forgotten what her son looked like. Maybe she had, but she never forgot how much she loved him, that was for sure.
Every time before she left, she'd cross herself and say, "God save my son." I always felt bad for her, but even if I knew who her son was, I'd never tell. It's the code of the newsies.
I search through all these nameless boys, faces smudged with dirt, innocence locked away behind hardened eyes. My boy had the sandiest brown hair when he left, was it as dark as his mother's now? His eyes were the most playful and beautiful color hazel, were they hardened by the street now too?
I ask every boy who will stop if they've seen him? He's not too tall, kind of skinny, only eight-- wait, no, he's nearly ten now. They say they've never heard of him. They say they've never seen him. Even if they had, they won't tell me, it's the newsies code.
My wife greets me at the door, I'm not even halfway up the stairs yet. Her eyes are wide and her face hopeful.
"Did you find him?"
I don't answer and squeeze past her into the apartment. The place still smells like him, like all little boys smell. It's a mix of candy and soap and mud. It's a sweet, sad smell.
His toys are still where he left them, my wife refuses to move a thing. I pick up his wooden sword, given to him by one of my friends for his sixth birthday.
If only I hadn't yelled at him. He was only a little boy, little boys break things, they cause mischief. I know this, I use to be one. Why didn't I stop to think before I lost my temper? Before I hit him.
"Honey, did you find him?"
She knows I didn't, if I did I wouldn't be holding his sword and holding back my tears. I can't bare to look her in the face, I can't watch her world collapse all over again.
"Skittery," her voice quivers. She knows, she going to cry. "Please, tell me that you..."
I wrap her in my arms as she breaks into sobs. I push her hair away from her face, kissing her gently on the temple. Her entire body shakes from her sobbing and my heart breaks. My heart is breaking over her heart ache, heart ache that I caused.
Holding her up with one arm, I make the sign of the cross over myself. "God save my son."
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Geez, I almost cried while writing this.
*Pie!Muse hugs Polecat* Awwww.
That part Patrick's mother sings is so inspiring to me, I might do more like this.
Also..... I don't get the chance to reply back and thank people for the reviews when I do one chapters. So I'd like to take that opportunity now. Thank you guys all so much for reading and reviewing. Even if you didn't review, you still read it so it counts. I appreciate all my reviews, I love them and you all totally make writing all the more fun. Okay, I'm gonna shut up now 'cause I'm feelin' all sentimental from this sappy story.