Dude. I haven't written in forever. Bekka, when you read this-if you read
this-what's your pen name? You have a story here? Link me, I demand!
***
"Rakael-damn it's been f'revah! When'd ya get outta da hellhole?"
"When me faddah finally acknowledged my existence a few years ago an' told me I'd be marryin' some guy I'd nevah met. Who didn't toin out ta be dat bad, actually, but dat's beside da point. You got out long 'fore dat- you'se what, ten?"
"Nine. It was easy 'nough t' run away, da main reason mos' don't do it is it's hahd t' live in da real woild. Buyin' food an' places t' sleep an' da like. Not as simple as it sounds."
"Yeah, but I awready knew dat from my 'escapade' as da nuns put it."
Blink and Irish burst out laughing at the memory, which got the newsies-who had gathered around over the course of their 'reunion'-curious about the story.
"So what 'appened?" Mush asked.
"Well, it ain't as funny livin' it as remembrin' it. I was about nine, dis was a couple days b'foah Blink left. Well, I got lawst-in Hahlem. Needless ta say, dat ain't da bes' place ta be at night. Also unnecessarily said, deah's some shady figures out deah.
"So I was poitty defensive, I mean, wha'd ya expect? I was a goil, alone, an' poitty smawl. I was coiwled up in an alley, an' I see dis tawl poy'sn come up an' these 'ands reach out'n grab me-I kicks 'em in da face an' who should it be but noise Mary-da uptight, prissy animal 'oo runs da infoimahry an's awlways onta us t'ree 'bout grammah. She NEVAH lef' me 'lone aftah dat."
Blink and Irish were still laughing at the retelling, and some of the other kids chuckled quietly to themselves too.
"Hey Angel, Irish, you two stayin' heah?" Cowboy asked after a momentary lull in conversation.
"Shoah," Irish shrugged.
"I dunno, uhm . . . sure."
"Good, den dat's settled. Ev'ryone happy? Awl da impoitant people got goils? Can we end this fic now?"
Shut up Jack. But yes. We can.
*~*Goodbye*~*
"WAIT! WHAT ABOUT ME!?" Jack exclaimed.
"What about you?"
"I don't got a goil!"
*Screams in frustration.* "WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME THIS EARLIER?!" *Pounds Jack into a bloody pulp.*
A/N: Looks like it's not as done as I wanted. Damn. I'll probably have another chapter or two.
--Chronicles Bailey
(P.S. I write too many stories. If I get lots of reviews on stories, I add more. Right now, this story has roughly 3.9 reviews per chapter. Obviously my one chapter stories have whatever their number is. The poem fic has 6, but no one really likes it, and it's pretty much through anyway. Aside from that . . .
BONS (Memphis Black-Out Newsies Style) - 1 (but I HAD four more chapters written anyway. Then the disk was eaten by my locker.)
RR - 2.83333333333333333333
UA - 3.461538 (it repeats that forever and ever and ever) [second place]
ATT - 3.81 (first place)
Irish Luck - 3
BoaDM - 2
SSotM - 3
Snoddy fic - 3.142857142857142857 etc.
Then the poem. REVIEW. MORE!
***
"Rakael-damn it's been f'revah! When'd ya get outta da hellhole?"
"When me faddah finally acknowledged my existence a few years ago an' told me I'd be marryin' some guy I'd nevah met. Who didn't toin out ta be dat bad, actually, but dat's beside da point. You got out long 'fore dat- you'se what, ten?"
"Nine. It was easy 'nough t' run away, da main reason mos' don't do it is it's hahd t' live in da real woild. Buyin' food an' places t' sleep an' da like. Not as simple as it sounds."
"Yeah, but I awready knew dat from my 'escapade' as da nuns put it."
Blink and Irish burst out laughing at the memory, which got the newsies-who had gathered around over the course of their 'reunion'-curious about the story.
"So what 'appened?" Mush asked.
"Well, it ain't as funny livin' it as remembrin' it. I was about nine, dis was a couple days b'foah Blink left. Well, I got lawst-in Hahlem. Needless ta say, dat ain't da bes' place ta be at night. Also unnecessarily said, deah's some shady figures out deah.
"So I was poitty defensive, I mean, wha'd ya expect? I was a goil, alone, an' poitty smawl. I was coiwled up in an alley, an' I see dis tawl poy'sn come up an' these 'ands reach out'n grab me-I kicks 'em in da face an' who should it be but noise Mary-da uptight, prissy animal 'oo runs da infoimahry an's awlways onta us t'ree 'bout grammah. She NEVAH lef' me 'lone aftah dat."
Blink and Irish were still laughing at the retelling, and some of the other kids chuckled quietly to themselves too.
"Hey Angel, Irish, you two stayin' heah?" Cowboy asked after a momentary lull in conversation.
"Shoah," Irish shrugged.
"I dunno, uhm . . . sure."
"Good, den dat's settled. Ev'ryone happy? Awl da impoitant people got goils? Can we end this fic now?"
Shut up Jack. But yes. We can.
*~*Goodbye*~*
"WAIT! WHAT ABOUT ME!?" Jack exclaimed.
"What about you?"
"I don't got a goil!"
*Screams in frustration.* "WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME THIS EARLIER?!" *Pounds Jack into a bloody pulp.*
A/N: Looks like it's not as done as I wanted. Damn. I'll probably have another chapter or two.
--Chronicles Bailey
(P.S. I write too many stories. If I get lots of reviews on stories, I add more. Right now, this story has roughly 3.9 reviews per chapter. Obviously my one chapter stories have whatever their number is. The poem fic has 6, but no one really likes it, and it's pretty much through anyway. Aside from that . . .
BONS (Memphis Black-Out Newsies Style) - 1 (but I HAD four more chapters written anyway. Then the disk was eaten by my locker.)
RR - 2.83333333333333333333
UA - 3.461538 (it repeats that forever and ever and ever) [second place]
ATT - 3.81 (first place)
Irish Luck - 3
BoaDM - 2
SSotM - 3
Snoddy fic - 3.142857142857142857 etc.
Then the poem. REVIEW. MORE!