"Where is love. does it come from stars above. is it underneath the
willow tree that you've been dreaming of? Where is."
The soft, soprano voice was suddenly cut off as a young man awoke suddenly, instinctively sitting up as his eyes flashed open. He gasped for breath as he regained consciousness. The blond haired man glanced around quickly, letting his eyes adjust to the lighting in the dark room. Propping himself up with his arms behind him, Oliver let out a sigh. He turned to look at the window, and sat up once again, pulling the single white sheet off of him. Standing up, Oliver slowly walked towards the window, pulled back the curtains and let cool blue moonlight into the humid room. He then opened it completely. The moonlight silhouetted Oliver's tall, lean frame perfectly as he looked out over London. The peaceful toll of Big Ben echoed over the city, announcing that it had just gone three. The Tames River was just barely visible from Mr.Brownlow's house, reminding any onlooker that there is some nature left in the overly industrialized city. Even in the early hours of the morning, large black pillars of smoke rose from many of the smokestacks lining the horizon. "I don't understand." Oliver said, with a strong cockney accent that he nor anyone else noticed due to the fact they all had this accent. "That song. I knew it. it was so long ago. Mrs.Bedwin used to sing it to me. but it isn't her voice." Another sigh escaped from Oliver's lips as he continued to gaze out over London.
Oliver didn't realize how long he had been standing there until the first rays of sunlight hit his eye. Squinting, he leaned over to look out at Big Ben, which was just at about 6 AM now. Sitting down on the windowsill, Oliver watched the sky go from black to navy to a then wonderful array of reds and yellows and all the colours in-between. "Who will buy. this wonderful morning. such a sky, you never did see.. Who will tie it up with a ribbon. and put it in a box for me?" Oliver sung softly to himself, sounding as if he almost didn't realize what he was doing. Crossing his arms, Oliver slowly rubbed his arms, wiping the little bit of sweat off of him, brought on by the humidity and the new sunlight. Sitting down in a chair near the bed, Oliver glanced from the window, to the pile of clothes he should have been changing into in the next few hours. Resting his head on the back of the chair, Oliver softly murmured to himself, "Just a quick nap, then I'll get up..." before falling fast asleep.
Mr.Brownlow quietly opened the door to Oliver's room and glanced inside. A warm smile grew across his face when he saw Oliver asleep in the chair. Being careful not to disturb him, Mr. Brownlow carefully took the single sheet off the bed and covered Oliver with it, giving him more covering than just an old pair of pants. Mr. Brownlow watched Oliver sleep peacefully for a moment, and gave a happy sigh. It was hard for Mr. Brownlow to imagine the type of life Oliver, his grandson, had lived before they had met. A life in a workshop must have been terrible. No parents, nobody to love him.
"No. please. don't hurt her." a soft voice mumbled from the chair. Mr. Brownlow looked down quickly at his grandson; not waking him, to hear what Oliver had to say.
"Please. she didn't do nothing. no. please don't.you're hurting her!" Oliver's voice grew frantic as he continued to speak, making small movements as if he was trying to get to something. "Nancy! What have you done? .Oh Nancy. please don't leave. Fagin. Fagin where are you? .She needs you. we need you. we need her." Oliver's voice escalated to near yells when he started again, then quickly began to mellow down, along with the movements, till he was sound asleep once again.
Mr. Brownlow watched all of this in shock. He knew exactly what Oliver was talking about: Nancy's death. Both of them were there when it happened, but neither saw each other. Mr. Brownlow never knew this was still bothering his grandson. With a sad and worried expression, he looked down at the young man and whispered, "You're alright now. We need you too." Mr. Brownlow then silently left the room, leaving Oliver alone again.
The soft, soprano voice was suddenly cut off as a young man awoke suddenly, instinctively sitting up as his eyes flashed open. He gasped for breath as he regained consciousness. The blond haired man glanced around quickly, letting his eyes adjust to the lighting in the dark room. Propping himself up with his arms behind him, Oliver let out a sigh. He turned to look at the window, and sat up once again, pulling the single white sheet off of him. Standing up, Oliver slowly walked towards the window, pulled back the curtains and let cool blue moonlight into the humid room. He then opened it completely. The moonlight silhouetted Oliver's tall, lean frame perfectly as he looked out over London. The peaceful toll of Big Ben echoed over the city, announcing that it had just gone three. The Tames River was just barely visible from Mr.Brownlow's house, reminding any onlooker that there is some nature left in the overly industrialized city. Even in the early hours of the morning, large black pillars of smoke rose from many of the smokestacks lining the horizon. "I don't understand." Oliver said, with a strong cockney accent that he nor anyone else noticed due to the fact they all had this accent. "That song. I knew it. it was so long ago. Mrs.Bedwin used to sing it to me. but it isn't her voice." Another sigh escaped from Oliver's lips as he continued to gaze out over London.
Oliver didn't realize how long he had been standing there until the first rays of sunlight hit his eye. Squinting, he leaned over to look out at Big Ben, which was just at about 6 AM now. Sitting down on the windowsill, Oliver watched the sky go from black to navy to a then wonderful array of reds and yellows and all the colours in-between. "Who will buy. this wonderful morning. such a sky, you never did see.. Who will tie it up with a ribbon. and put it in a box for me?" Oliver sung softly to himself, sounding as if he almost didn't realize what he was doing. Crossing his arms, Oliver slowly rubbed his arms, wiping the little bit of sweat off of him, brought on by the humidity and the new sunlight. Sitting down in a chair near the bed, Oliver glanced from the window, to the pile of clothes he should have been changing into in the next few hours. Resting his head on the back of the chair, Oliver softly murmured to himself, "Just a quick nap, then I'll get up..." before falling fast asleep.
Mr.Brownlow quietly opened the door to Oliver's room and glanced inside. A warm smile grew across his face when he saw Oliver asleep in the chair. Being careful not to disturb him, Mr. Brownlow carefully took the single sheet off the bed and covered Oliver with it, giving him more covering than just an old pair of pants. Mr. Brownlow watched Oliver sleep peacefully for a moment, and gave a happy sigh. It was hard for Mr. Brownlow to imagine the type of life Oliver, his grandson, had lived before they had met. A life in a workshop must have been terrible. No parents, nobody to love him.
"No. please. don't hurt her." a soft voice mumbled from the chair. Mr. Brownlow looked down quickly at his grandson; not waking him, to hear what Oliver had to say.
"Please. she didn't do nothing. no. please don't.you're hurting her!" Oliver's voice grew frantic as he continued to speak, making small movements as if he was trying to get to something. "Nancy! What have you done? .Oh Nancy. please don't leave. Fagin. Fagin where are you? .She needs you. we need you. we need her." Oliver's voice escalated to near yells when he started again, then quickly began to mellow down, along with the movements, till he was sound asleep once again.
Mr. Brownlow watched all of this in shock. He knew exactly what Oliver was talking about: Nancy's death. Both of them were there when it happened, but neither saw each other. Mr. Brownlow never knew this was still bothering his grandson. With a sad and worried expression, he looked down at the young man and whispered, "You're alright now. We need you too." Mr. Brownlow then silently left the room, leaving Oliver alone again.