THANK YOU KORA! YOU'RE AWESOME! I LOVE YOU!
Thank you to Spatz, klover, and Bottles, too!
MORE STORY!
Disclaimer: I think you've figured out I don't own the newsies. Good, you're smart!
***
Troubled Nights
*~*"RUN!" Blink shouted. Mush shuddered in fear, paralyzed by the sight of his father. "MUSH, RUN FOR IT!"
"You brat, you'll pay for what you've done! Don't-you-ever-run-away- again!" his father yelled, the hateful words punctuated by stinging blows.
"Papa, no!" Mush whimpered. "Please, stop!"*~*
A mere distance of three yards away, another nightmare was troubling one more innocent sleeper.
*~*"BLINK, GET OUT OF HERE!" Lily screamed at her brother from her captor's arms. "Don't worry about me, get out!"
"I ain't leavin' widout ya!" Blink yelled, starting for the man who would kill his sister. But he forgot about their uncle's paid thugs-two of which grabbed him by the arms and bound him in rope, gagging him faster than you can scream.
"Well, *Blink* I suggest you close your eyes," the malicious murderer sneered, pulling out his knife and touching it to the screaming Lily's throat. "And now, my dear niece, you die," he growled, and jerked the knife across her neck, slitting her throat in one quick motion.
Tears streamed down Blink's face as his uncle let Lily's body drop lifelessly to the ground. "And as for you, my dashing nephew, it's your turn. But first. . ." With a vicious jab, the knife stabbed out Blink's eye. (A/N: Blink was already nicknamed by his sister for some strange reason. . . don't worry too much about it.) Blink screamed in pain through the gag.
*Don't let this be my end, at the hand of my sister's murderer. Please god, don't let the blood fall twice as heavily in this accursed place.*
"And now, it is your turn to die."*~*
Jack left the boys in their nightmares with deep regret, but there was nothing he could do. So he climbed into his own bunk and fell into his own uncertain dreams.
*~*"Hello?" he called out. It was dark, all so dark-shadowy figures approaching with caution, approaching in long, stalking strides.
"My son," his mother whispered, stroking his face gently. Jack looked at her mournfully. SLAP!
Jack's face contorted in confusion. Another resounding blow landed on his cheek.*~*
"Ow, what da hell was dat fawh!?" Jack shouted, jolting awake. Race was sitting on his chest, hand ready for another hit.
"Jeez, I t'ought ya'd nevah wake up. C'mon, we got papes ta sell."
***
Jack sold with a bruised and battered David Jacobs. Les was nowhere in sight. "Jack. I can't-if I come back tomorrow; and my dad hears about it, I'm dead meat. I have to stop selling. I'm not supposed to be here today, but hopefully they won't notice if I'm late. I *have* to stop selling."
"No. Yer dad will find some uddah reason ta beat ya up. Dey always do. You an' yer bruddah-does 'e hit Les?"
"No."
"Does 'e seem ta favah Les an' Sarah-besides da abuse, I mean? Does he act nice to 'em?"
"Not anymore. Well, he's ok to Sarah."
"Den you an' Les are comin' wid us-an' yer stayin' at da lodgin' house."
And that was that. One problem solved, for the moment, anyway.
***
Mush and Blink sold together that day, yawning behind their hands to hide tiredness. They ignored the dark circles under each other's eyes, pretending nothing was wrong. Around eleven, wearing his perfected fake smile, Mush sold a paper to what seemed to be merely a Latvian immigrant with some interesting apparel, colored scarves, no shirt, and an embroidered vest. (A/N: We're going to pretend that's what gypsies look like.) Then Mush locked eyes with the stranger that was no longer a stranger.
He felt like he was sweating bullets, but he pulled off an indifferent expression. *Thanks for the poker lessons Race!* he thought to himself as he turned to walk away.
"Hei, smalk?da!" the Latvian said. "Hey, kid!" Mush made the mistake of his life.
"Ko tu, velns par?vis, gribi?" he whispered fearfully. "What the hell do you want?"
"I knew it," the man said. Mush ran as fast as he could, dropping the remainder of his papers. "Es to izg?zt tu, viltots!" his father yelled. "I will kill you, bastard!"
"Nieki!" (shit) Mush shouted, feet pounding the ground. Old Latvian women gasped at his atrocious language.
Mush was one of the five fastest newsies in NYC, but his father was practically an Olympic runner-it was from him that Mush got his athleticism and limberness. Mush hadn't been running for fifteen minutes before his father caught up and tackled him, dragged him into an alley, and beat the crap out of him with a belt. Then he slung the unconscious young man over his back and hauled him to a tenement building.
Fading in and out of awareness, Mush wondered if he would survive the night.
***
It's getting longer. Slowly. Very slowly. My Latvian is non-existent, so anyone who speaks it, forgive me. I'm using a translator site, so I can't be sure how exact the translation is. Also, I chose Latvian because it is cool!
Keep on reading --Chronicles Bailey
Thank you to Spatz, klover, and Bottles, too!
MORE STORY!
Disclaimer: I think you've figured out I don't own the newsies. Good, you're smart!
***
Troubled Nights
*~*"RUN!" Blink shouted. Mush shuddered in fear, paralyzed by the sight of his father. "MUSH, RUN FOR IT!"
"You brat, you'll pay for what you've done! Don't-you-ever-run-away- again!" his father yelled, the hateful words punctuated by stinging blows.
"Papa, no!" Mush whimpered. "Please, stop!"*~*
A mere distance of three yards away, another nightmare was troubling one more innocent sleeper.
*~*"BLINK, GET OUT OF HERE!" Lily screamed at her brother from her captor's arms. "Don't worry about me, get out!"
"I ain't leavin' widout ya!" Blink yelled, starting for the man who would kill his sister. But he forgot about their uncle's paid thugs-two of which grabbed him by the arms and bound him in rope, gagging him faster than you can scream.
"Well, *Blink* I suggest you close your eyes," the malicious murderer sneered, pulling out his knife and touching it to the screaming Lily's throat. "And now, my dear niece, you die," he growled, and jerked the knife across her neck, slitting her throat in one quick motion.
Tears streamed down Blink's face as his uncle let Lily's body drop lifelessly to the ground. "And as for you, my dashing nephew, it's your turn. But first. . ." With a vicious jab, the knife stabbed out Blink's eye. (A/N: Blink was already nicknamed by his sister for some strange reason. . . don't worry too much about it.) Blink screamed in pain through the gag.
*Don't let this be my end, at the hand of my sister's murderer. Please god, don't let the blood fall twice as heavily in this accursed place.*
"And now, it is your turn to die."*~*
Jack left the boys in their nightmares with deep regret, but there was nothing he could do. So he climbed into his own bunk and fell into his own uncertain dreams.
*~*"Hello?" he called out. It was dark, all so dark-shadowy figures approaching with caution, approaching in long, stalking strides.
"My son," his mother whispered, stroking his face gently. Jack looked at her mournfully. SLAP!
Jack's face contorted in confusion. Another resounding blow landed on his cheek.*~*
"Ow, what da hell was dat fawh!?" Jack shouted, jolting awake. Race was sitting on his chest, hand ready for another hit.
"Jeez, I t'ought ya'd nevah wake up. C'mon, we got papes ta sell."
***
Jack sold with a bruised and battered David Jacobs. Les was nowhere in sight. "Jack. I can't-if I come back tomorrow; and my dad hears about it, I'm dead meat. I have to stop selling. I'm not supposed to be here today, but hopefully they won't notice if I'm late. I *have* to stop selling."
"No. Yer dad will find some uddah reason ta beat ya up. Dey always do. You an' yer bruddah-does 'e hit Les?"
"No."
"Does 'e seem ta favah Les an' Sarah-besides da abuse, I mean? Does he act nice to 'em?"
"Not anymore. Well, he's ok to Sarah."
"Den you an' Les are comin' wid us-an' yer stayin' at da lodgin' house."
And that was that. One problem solved, for the moment, anyway.
***
Mush and Blink sold together that day, yawning behind their hands to hide tiredness. They ignored the dark circles under each other's eyes, pretending nothing was wrong. Around eleven, wearing his perfected fake smile, Mush sold a paper to what seemed to be merely a Latvian immigrant with some interesting apparel, colored scarves, no shirt, and an embroidered vest. (A/N: We're going to pretend that's what gypsies look like.) Then Mush locked eyes with the stranger that was no longer a stranger.
He felt like he was sweating bullets, but he pulled off an indifferent expression. *Thanks for the poker lessons Race!* he thought to himself as he turned to walk away.
"Hei, smalk?da!" the Latvian said. "Hey, kid!" Mush made the mistake of his life.
"Ko tu, velns par?vis, gribi?" he whispered fearfully. "What the hell do you want?"
"I knew it," the man said. Mush ran as fast as he could, dropping the remainder of his papers. "Es to izg?zt tu, viltots!" his father yelled. "I will kill you, bastard!"
"Nieki!" (shit) Mush shouted, feet pounding the ground. Old Latvian women gasped at his atrocious language.
Mush was one of the five fastest newsies in NYC, but his father was practically an Olympic runner-it was from him that Mush got his athleticism and limberness. Mush hadn't been running for fifteen minutes before his father caught up and tackled him, dragged him into an alley, and beat the crap out of him with a belt. Then he slung the unconscious young man over his back and hauled him to a tenement building.
Fading in and out of awareness, Mush wondered if he would survive the night.
***
It's getting longer. Slowly. Very slowly. My Latvian is non-existent, so anyone who speaks it, forgive me. I'm using a translator site, so I can't be sure how exact the translation is. Also, I chose Latvian because it is cool!
Keep on reading --Chronicles Bailey