Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from Newsies (Wouldn't that
be nice though?). I am not making any money from this, nor do I have any
money to begin with, so please do not sue me.
I have never been able to stay in one place for long. I always have to move from one place to another before I become too attached. My past has not been an easy one. My mother died when I was four and my father raised me till I was eight. He beat me every single day; constantly blaming me for my mother's death, him losing his job, there never being enough money, and other stuff I couldn't control, even if I had tried. That may be why I'm scared to get attached, but I'll never know for sure. Now don't feel sorry for me; there are plenty of other kids on the street far worse off then I am. So I had some problems with my father, I got over it. I ran away when I was eight, he had just beaten me near unconsciousness because we were out of whiskey. That was when I decided I'd had enough of his bullshit. When he had passed out on the couch, I got together what little belongings I had and set off into the world.
I have been almost everywhere. You name a city and chances are I've been there. Lately I've been hopping around the East Coast. I really like it over here, maybe one day when I'm done traveling I'll settle down over here. I doubt it. It just isn't like me to stop at one place for too long. The longest I've stayed put is for 3 months in Maine. Its real nice up there, you should visit sometime. I jumped on this train thinking it was heading for Florida but I heard something about it going to New York. Oh, well. It doesn't really matter, now does it. Oh, and incase you we wondering, my names Crystal Green. Green isn't really my last name; it's my favorite color. Did you really think I would that man's last name? Of course not.
The train began to slow, so I grabbed my bag and slid the door open. I watched the ground and waited for the perfect time to jump. Leaping from the boxcar I tightened myself into a ball, awaiting my fall. I'm pretty good at this now; I rarely ever hurt myself anymore. I got up and dusted myself off. I sighed; I've been here once before, and might I add it wasn't such a great experience. I was in Brooklyn and some punks decided to beat the shit out of me and take all my money. I managed to get away without getting hurt too bad, but after that incident I swore I would learn to fight.
I began walking aimlessly around. I had no idea what I was going to do here. It was midday and some kids were running around 'carrying da bannah' as they called it. It doesn't seem like a hard job, but you would be surprised. I was a newsie for a few weeks in San Francisco, so I know. Along with visiting almost every place in the States, I've worked about every job imaginable. To tell you the truth, I've even been a lady of the night. I'm not proud of it, but I'm not ashamed either; to survive you need to eat, to eat you need money, and to get money you need to work, and prostituting is work. Not the best job though, I wouldn't recommend it, though I would do it again if I had to. I walked up to a short little Italian, about my age, crying out some ridiculous headline.
"'Scuse me, where can I find a distribution office round heah?" I asked in my fake New York accent. Along with traveling anywhere possible and working any job possible, I can also imitate any accent possible. Unlike my job as a 'lady of the night,' I'm quite proud of my fake accents.
"Why? You becoming a newsie?" He asked, and eyebrow raised.
"Is there any oddur reason I'd be looking for one?" I asked, my patience running low.
The boy just looked at me for a moment, as it trying to see if there would be another reason. All I could do was smile; when you meet a lot of people, you learn to read them. I could tell this kid was a smart-ass and always had to have the last word. However, in this case, it didn't look likely. He finally gave up and smiled as well.
"Guess der aint," he said, still grinning, "but der ain't gonna be nothing left now. I's too late today. Come wid me to dinnah at Tibby's."
"And what makes you think I'se wanna do a thing like dat?" I asked, it wasn't like I had anything else to do, but I thought I'd give the boy a run for his money.
"Cause if you'se go ta dinnah wid me, I'll fix ya up wid a place to stay for da night, and show you were ta get you'se papes in da morning," he proposed.
"What makes you think I aint got no place to stay?" He raised an eyebrow.
"Well do ya?" I shook my head. "I know, cause you jist said ya ain't, now lets go I'm hungry."
I couldn't help but laugh at his bluntness with me. Weren't boys supposed to be polite around ladies? It didn't matter though; I was never one with being polite. I'd rather be sarcastic and joke around. The boy took me to the restaurant; it was crowded with boys of all ages. It was a bit overwhelming but I tried not to show it, they boy I was with didn't seem to notice. He walked over to a booth were two other boys were sitting. They both had dirty blonde hair; one had a patch over one eye and the other had a cowboy hat dangling from around his neck.
"Hey Race, How's it rollin?" cowboy hat boy asked.
"Not bad, not bad," my Italian answered.
"You guys up for a game of pokah tonight?" the eye patch kid asked.
I noticed the sparkle in my new Italian friend's eye at the mention of poker and couldn't help but laugh. The two boys looked up at me, noticing my presence for the first time.
"I don't mean to be rude miss, but who da 'ell are ya?" the cowboy hat boy asked. I stifled another laugh.
"Oh," the Italian exclaimed, as he realized he hadn't introduced me yet, " I met 'er today. She wants ta become a newsie. I told 'er she could stay at da lodgin' house and sell papes wid us."
The two nodded and smiled at me, then looking back to the Italian as if waiting for something else. "Well, she gots a name?" the cowboy hat boy finally asked.
"Ohh. umm." was all my Italian could get out. I laughed again as I realized that my new friend and I had never exchanged names.
"Don't be an ass Kelly. You don't talk 'bout a lady like she ain't heah, when she standing right next ta ya," the eye patch kid stood up and put out his hand, "Da name's Kid Blink. And you are...?"
"Crystal Green," I said as I shook his hand. I rarely used my real name, but it seemed wrong to lie to these nice boys. My Italian friend smiled sheepishly as he faced me to finally introduce himself.
"I'se Racetrack," He said sticking out his had as well.
"You said she could stay at da lodgin' house and you don't even know 'er name?" the nameless boy asked laughing. I was getting really annoyed with this cowboy wannabe.
"Well, you ain't much better, cause I still don't know your name," I stately harshly. I wasn't going to let him get away with making fun of my new friend.
"Jack Kelley," he said, no longer laughing.
Race noticed the tension so he took me to meet the rest of the boys. The only names I could remember were Race's, Jack's, Blink's, Boot's, Mush's, and Crutchy's. I was never good with names.
Race had joined a poker game with a couple of the older newsies and left me to my own devices. I really didn't feel like doing anything and decided to try to go to sleep early; after all, I'd have to wake up real early tomorrow. I lied there thinking about my new friends. All the boys were so nice, well most of them were. Jack was really irritating. Race must have realized I was going to sleep because he came over and said goodnight. With that I shut my eyes and fell asleep.
I have never been able to stay in one place for long. I always have to move from one place to another before I become too attached. My past has not been an easy one. My mother died when I was four and my father raised me till I was eight. He beat me every single day; constantly blaming me for my mother's death, him losing his job, there never being enough money, and other stuff I couldn't control, even if I had tried. That may be why I'm scared to get attached, but I'll never know for sure. Now don't feel sorry for me; there are plenty of other kids on the street far worse off then I am. So I had some problems with my father, I got over it. I ran away when I was eight, he had just beaten me near unconsciousness because we were out of whiskey. That was when I decided I'd had enough of his bullshit. When he had passed out on the couch, I got together what little belongings I had and set off into the world.
I have been almost everywhere. You name a city and chances are I've been there. Lately I've been hopping around the East Coast. I really like it over here, maybe one day when I'm done traveling I'll settle down over here. I doubt it. It just isn't like me to stop at one place for too long. The longest I've stayed put is for 3 months in Maine. Its real nice up there, you should visit sometime. I jumped on this train thinking it was heading for Florida but I heard something about it going to New York. Oh, well. It doesn't really matter, now does it. Oh, and incase you we wondering, my names Crystal Green. Green isn't really my last name; it's my favorite color. Did you really think I would that man's last name? Of course not.
The train began to slow, so I grabbed my bag and slid the door open. I watched the ground and waited for the perfect time to jump. Leaping from the boxcar I tightened myself into a ball, awaiting my fall. I'm pretty good at this now; I rarely ever hurt myself anymore. I got up and dusted myself off. I sighed; I've been here once before, and might I add it wasn't such a great experience. I was in Brooklyn and some punks decided to beat the shit out of me and take all my money. I managed to get away without getting hurt too bad, but after that incident I swore I would learn to fight.
I began walking aimlessly around. I had no idea what I was going to do here. It was midday and some kids were running around 'carrying da bannah' as they called it. It doesn't seem like a hard job, but you would be surprised. I was a newsie for a few weeks in San Francisco, so I know. Along with visiting almost every place in the States, I've worked about every job imaginable. To tell you the truth, I've even been a lady of the night. I'm not proud of it, but I'm not ashamed either; to survive you need to eat, to eat you need money, and to get money you need to work, and prostituting is work. Not the best job though, I wouldn't recommend it, though I would do it again if I had to. I walked up to a short little Italian, about my age, crying out some ridiculous headline.
"'Scuse me, where can I find a distribution office round heah?" I asked in my fake New York accent. Along with traveling anywhere possible and working any job possible, I can also imitate any accent possible. Unlike my job as a 'lady of the night,' I'm quite proud of my fake accents.
"Why? You becoming a newsie?" He asked, and eyebrow raised.
"Is there any oddur reason I'd be looking for one?" I asked, my patience running low.
The boy just looked at me for a moment, as it trying to see if there would be another reason. All I could do was smile; when you meet a lot of people, you learn to read them. I could tell this kid was a smart-ass and always had to have the last word. However, in this case, it didn't look likely. He finally gave up and smiled as well.
"Guess der aint," he said, still grinning, "but der ain't gonna be nothing left now. I's too late today. Come wid me to dinnah at Tibby's."
"And what makes you think I'se wanna do a thing like dat?" I asked, it wasn't like I had anything else to do, but I thought I'd give the boy a run for his money.
"Cause if you'se go ta dinnah wid me, I'll fix ya up wid a place to stay for da night, and show you were ta get you'se papes in da morning," he proposed.
"What makes you think I aint got no place to stay?" He raised an eyebrow.
"Well do ya?" I shook my head. "I know, cause you jist said ya ain't, now lets go I'm hungry."
I couldn't help but laugh at his bluntness with me. Weren't boys supposed to be polite around ladies? It didn't matter though; I was never one with being polite. I'd rather be sarcastic and joke around. The boy took me to the restaurant; it was crowded with boys of all ages. It was a bit overwhelming but I tried not to show it, they boy I was with didn't seem to notice. He walked over to a booth were two other boys were sitting. They both had dirty blonde hair; one had a patch over one eye and the other had a cowboy hat dangling from around his neck.
"Hey Race, How's it rollin?" cowboy hat boy asked.
"Not bad, not bad," my Italian answered.
"You guys up for a game of pokah tonight?" the eye patch kid asked.
I noticed the sparkle in my new Italian friend's eye at the mention of poker and couldn't help but laugh. The two boys looked up at me, noticing my presence for the first time.
"I don't mean to be rude miss, but who da 'ell are ya?" the cowboy hat boy asked. I stifled another laugh.
"Oh," the Italian exclaimed, as he realized he hadn't introduced me yet, " I met 'er today. She wants ta become a newsie. I told 'er she could stay at da lodgin' house and sell papes wid us."
The two nodded and smiled at me, then looking back to the Italian as if waiting for something else. "Well, she gots a name?" the cowboy hat boy finally asked.
"Ohh. umm." was all my Italian could get out. I laughed again as I realized that my new friend and I had never exchanged names.
"Don't be an ass Kelly. You don't talk 'bout a lady like she ain't heah, when she standing right next ta ya," the eye patch kid stood up and put out his hand, "Da name's Kid Blink. And you are...?"
"Crystal Green," I said as I shook his hand. I rarely used my real name, but it seemed wrong to lie to these nice boys. My Italian friend smiled sheepishly as he faced me to finally introduce himself.
"I'se Racetrack," He said sticking out his had as well.
"You said she could stay at da lodgin' house and you don't even know 'er name?" the nameless boy asked laughing. I was getting really annoyed with this cowboy wannabe.
"Well, you ain't much better, cause I still don't know your name," I stately harshly. I wasn't going to let him get away with making fun of my new friend.
"Jack Kelley," he said, no longer laughing.
Race noticed the tension so he took me to meet the rest of the boys. The only names I could remember were Race's, Jack's, Blink's, Boot's, Mush's, and Crutchy's. I was never good with names.
Race had joined a poker game with a couple of the older newsies and left me to my own devices. I really didn't feel like doing anything and decided to try to go to sleep early; after all, I'd have to wake up real early tomorrow. I lied there thinking about my new friends. All the boys were so nice, well most of them were. Jack was really irritating. Race must have realized I was going to sleep because he came over and said goodnight. With that I shut my eyes and fell asleep.