-L'Amo-
"Woah..." Benna looked around is shock. She rubbed her eyes, making sure this wasn't her mind playing tricks on her again. No, it defiantly wasn't. All this was real. And it was all so familiar.
The inside of the building was nothing you would expect from looking at the outside. There were old, yet cared for couches, a desk covered with papers and books, as well as a chair near that, a book self with about 7 books, that looked as if they'd distinctly been avoided, as well as a small side table with a half full glass of dirty water sitting on it. The odd thing was, nothing was dusty or run down, like the outside. Everything looked as though people had just been there. Benna began too look around, examining everything more closely. She was at a loss of words. She knew this place. But she couldn't remember how.
Suddenly a loud thud tore her from her thoughts. She stood still, her heart beating madly, and looked at the general are the sound had come from. Shuffling. Mumbling. And then, an old man, talking to himself quietly, looking through a stack of papers in his hands. He looked up at her, startled.
"Oh, ah, can I help ya?" Benna stared, unable to speak. The man looked her over, apparently thinking she needed some sort of help. Finally Benna snapped out of it.
"Um... I'm not quite sure... What is this place?" she asked, walking up to him and looking around the room. He gave her another look.
"It's the, ah, 'Hattan Newsboys Lodgin' Home, Miss. Didn't ya see the sign out front?" Benna looked at him sharply.
"Sign? There was no sign. This entire place was boarded up–" she began as she looked to the window. But she stopped. It was no longer boarded up. In fact, the sun was shining through it. She walked over to it. Well, almost more of a run. Looking outside, she no longer saw a frozen-in-time New York City, no, but a very lively out-of-date New York City. The roads were no longer paved, and there were no cars of taxi cabs– only horse drawn carriages and push carts. Her eyes grew wide. 'This can't be real...' she thought frantically. Nothing was the same as it had been. Even the people looked different– they were dressed as if starring in a movie about the 1900's. 'Wait a minute... This has gotta be a dream... I've gone to that site before, the one where people write stories about going back in time into certain movies... yeah, that's all this is...a dream...' She looked back at the old man. He was looking at her cautiously, as if wanting to help her with no way to do so. Shaking her head, she walked to the couch and sat down. This caused him to look very alarmed.
"Are ya alright, Miss? Can I get you anythin'?" She looked up at him and nodded, holding out her arm.
"Pinch me," she commanded. The man stepped back and shook his head.
"I will do nothin' of the sort," he said forcefully. Benna sighed and pinched her arm herself. Ouch. Damn.
"Why are all the roads made of dirt?" she asked, once again getting up and looking out the window. He gave her another look.
"What are you talking about, Miss?" She sighed again. Opening the door, she stepped outside and looked around, figuring maybe the scene would change to normal. It didn't. The man shrugged and closed the door behind her, apparently happy to get rid of her. Benna turned around and went back inside. The man sighed. "Miss, please, if ya'd just tell me what's wrong, maybe I can help ya..." he pleaded. Benna ignored him. She was lost in her own thought. 'Ah! The window!' She sprinted to the window and forced it open once again. Then she climbed through it and looked around. 'Dammit!' Everything was the same. 'What the Hell is going on?' Once again, she went back inside. She sat down on the couch again and put her hands on her head, leaning over her feet. The man came over to her side again and squatted down at eye level with her. "Miss, please. Would ya just tell me whats the matter?" Benna shook her head and looked him in the eye. Something clicked. Her expression soften. Those eyes... she knew those eyes...
"Whats you name?" she asked him quietly. The man smiled slightly.
"Henry Kloppson." he said calmly. "What's yours?" Benna ran his name through her mind. It sounded so familiar... "Miss? Ya name?"
"Oh, ah, Benna. Bianco." The man's eyes slowly grew wide.
"Bianco, didja say?" Benna nodded slowly. "Does the name Bennita sound in any way common, to ya?" She looked at him sharply. After a brief pause, she nodded again. The man nodded back. He stood, and walked wearily to his desk. "Yes. Well, Miss Bianco, I can see that you don't seem to know where you are. I... I suggest you go down the street to the–"
"–Kloppman?" Benna said suddenly. The name had just popped into her head from no where. He studied her, a slight smile showing through his face. Finally, he nodded.
"That's what I'm called sometimes, yes..." Benna shook her head, thinking hard. All these thoughts were flowing back to her, as if a dam had just been released in her mind. She looked around. She knew this place. It was becoming clear...
"Whitey," she said as the word came to her mind. The man nodded again.
"Whitey Halloway no longer lives here. He moved out five years ago. He was the only Whitey I ever knew." Benna kept raking her brain.
"Papes?" she said eagerly. It was strange the way single words were coming to her freely. The man smiled.
"Papers. Its what the newsies sell." Benna looked up. She knew that word, newsies...
"Whats the year?" she asked.
"1898, Miss Bianco," he replied with a grin. Apparently he knew something she did not, but she wasn't about to worry about that now. It was 1898. 1898. She ran this through her mind. 'Wow... I defied time. How the Hell did I do that?' Suddenly, all of the words stopped coming to her. Her mind was blank. 'Damn. Just when I was getting somewhere.' She looked around again. The man was still smiling at her. This time, she smiled back. "You look exhausted. Would you like a rest?" Benna wasn't really all that tired, but she figured that maybe if she was isolated in silence, she could get more from her brain. So she agreed. He took her up a small flight of stairs and opened a door at the beginning of a hall. It had four beds in it, all made nicely accept one. She smiled at the man as he walked back down the stairs and crawled into a bed after shutting the door. There was a lock, but she didn't worry about it. She felt safe in this place. Like she had been there many times before.
She lay in bed, trying to think of more memories or whatever they were. Before she knew it, she had fallen asleep.
"Woah..." Benna looked around is shock. She rubbed her eyes, making sure this wasn't her mind playing tricks on her again. No, it defiantly wasn't. All this was real. And it was all so familiar.
The inside of the building was nothing you would expect from looking at the outside. There were old, yet cared for couches, a desk covered with papers and books, as well as a chair near that, a book self with about 7 books, that looked as if they'd distinctly been avoided, as well as a small side table with a half full glass of dirty water sitting on it. The odd thing was, nothing was dusty or run down, like the outside. Everything looked as though people had just been there. Benna began too look around, examining everything more closely. She was at a loss of words. She knew this place. But she couldn't remember how.
Suddenly a loud thud tore her from her thoughts. She stood still, her heart beating madly, and looked at the general are the sound had come from. Shuffling. Mumbling. And then, an old man, talking to himself quietly, looking through a stack of papers in his hands. He looked up at her, startled.
"Oh, ah, can I help ya?" Benna stared, unable to speak. The man looked her over, apparently thinking she needed some sort of help. Finally Benna snapped out of it.
"Um... I'm not quite sure... What is this place?" she asked, walking up to him and looking around the room. He gave her another look.
"It's the, ah, 'Hattan Newsboys Lodgin' Home, Miss. Didn't ya see the sign out front?" Benna looked at him sharply.
"Sign? There was no sign. This entire place was boarded up–" she began as she looked to the window. But she stopped. It was no longer boarded up. In fact, the sun was shining through it. She walked over to it. Well, almost more of a run. Looking outside, she no longer saw a frozen-in-time New York City, no, but a very lively out-of-date New York City. The roads were no longer paved, and there were no cars of taxi cabs– only horse drawn carriages and push carts. Her eyes grew wide. 'This can't be real...' she thought frantically. Nothing was the same as it had been. Even the people looked different– they were dressed as if starring in a movie about the 1900's. 'Wait a minute... This has gotta be a dream... I've gone to that site before, the one where people write stories about going back in time into certain movies... yeah, that's all this is...a dream...' She looked back at the old man. He was looking at her cautiously, as if wanting to help her with no way to do so. Shaking her head, she walked to the couch and sat down. This caused him to look very alarmed.
"Are ya alright, Miss? Can I get you anythin'?" She looked up at him and nodded, holding out her arm.
"Pinch me," she commanded. The man stepped back and shook his head.
"I will do nothin' of the sort," he said forcefully. Benna sighed and pinched her arm herself. Ouch. Damn.
"Why are all the roads made of dirt?" she asked, once again getting up and looking out the window. He gave her another look.
"What are you talking about, Miss?" She sighed again. Opening the door, she stepped outside and looked around, figuring maybe the scene would change to normal. It didn't. The man shrugged and closed the door behind her, apparently happy to get rid of her. Benna turned around and went back inside. The man sighed. "Miss, please, if ya'd just tell me what's wrong, maybe I can help ya..." he pleaded. Benna ignored him. She was lost in her own thought. 'Ah! The window!' She sprinted to the window and forced it open once again. Then she climbed through it and looked around. 'Dammit!' Everything was the same. 'What the Hell is going on?' Once again, she went back inside. She sat down on the couch again and put her hands on her head, leaning over her feet. The man came over to her side again and squatted down at eye level with her. "Miss, please. Would ya just tell me whats the matter?" Benna shook her head and looked him in the eye. Something clicked. Her expression soften. Those eyes... she knew those eyes...
"Whats you name?" she asked him quietly. The man smiled slightly.
"Henry Kloppson." he said calmly. "What's yours?" Benna ran his name through her mind. It sounded so familiar... "Miss? Ya name?"
"Oh, ah, Benna. Bianco." The man's eyes slowly grew wide.
"Bianco, didja say?" Benna nodded slowly. "Does the name Bennita sound in any way common, to ya?" She looked at him sharply. After a brief pause, she nodded again. The man nodded back. He stood, and walked wearily to his desk. "Yes. Well, Miss Bianco, I can see that you don't seem to know where you are. I... I suggest you go down the street to the–"
"–Kloppman?" Benna said suddenly. The name had just popped into her head from no where. He studied her, a slight smile showing through his face. Finally, he nodded.
"That's what I'm called sometimes, yes..." Benna shook her head, thinking hard. All these thoughts were flowing back to her, as if a dam had just been released in her mind. She looked around. She knew this place. It was becoming clear...
"Whitey," she said as the word came to her mind. The man nodded again.
"Whitey Halloway no longer lives here. He moved out five years ago. He was the only Whitey I ever knew." Benna kept raking her brain.
"Papes?" she said eagerly. It was strange the way single words were coming to her freely. The man smiled.
"Papers. Its what the newsies sell." Benna looked up. She knew that word, newsies...
"Whats the year?" she asked.
"1898, Miss Bianco," he replied with a grin. Apparently he knew something she did not, but she wasn't about to worry about that now. It was 1898. 1898. She ran this through her mind. 'Wow... I defied time. How the Hell did I do that?' Suddenly, all of the words stopped coming to her. Her mind was blank. 'Damn. Just when I was getting somewhere.' She looked around again. The man was still smiling at her. This time, she smiled back. "You look exhausted. Would you like a rest?" Benna wasn't really all that tired, but she figured that maybe if she was isolated in silence, she could get more from her brain. So she agreed. He took her up a small flight of stairs and opened a door at the beginning of a hall. It had four beds in it, all made nicely accept one. She smiled at the man as he walked back down the stairs and crawled into a bed after shutting the door. There was a lock, but she didn't worry about it. She felt safe in this place. Like she had been there many times before.
She lay in bed, trying to think of more memories or whatever they were. Before she knew it, she had fallen asleep.
