2 MONTHS LATER…….
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Sweetz's POV
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"Just kill me already! Youse know you want to!" I screamed at my father who had me pinned up to the wall.
/This torture isn't worth living for. Nothing is./
"Just let me die, please." I began to sob softly as he released my wrists and let me fall to the ground. "Kill me please. Just kill me. Let me die." I said sadly as I cried. I felt so weak and I was giving up easily.
/What happened to the tough Sweetz?/
I cried even harder because I realized that I was different. I have changed into a weak and vulnerable person.
"Please dad, do dis fer me. No one will care. I'm just a street rat. Just kill me. I want you to kill me. I want you, the one who gave me life, to take it away." I heard his footsteps walk out of the room. I examined my body. It was full of bruises and cuts. I couldn't even look at myself in the mirror anymore. I looked hideous. And not even Morris can recognize me. Morris and I would walk down the streets together. I usually wear my uniform which includes a scarf to cover up my face, a dress, and sandal like shoes.
Every now and then I saw the newsies. They looked so happy. Happier cause I'm not there to bring them down. I guess life is harder then I thought.
"Sweetz?" I wiped my tears away and bowed my head.
"Hello, how may I help you?" I stood up and kept my head down. My father told me that I should never look anybody in the eye cause I am the scum of the earth.
"What happened to yer accent?" My father once told me that if I got rid of my accent, then he wouldn't beat me up as bad. So I took that offer. What would anybody else have done?
"Does it matter?" I said irritated. "Now don't ever call me Sweetz again or father will never let me forget it."
"How come youse aint looking at me?"
"Because I am not worthy to meet your eyes gaze." I heard him walk closer to me. He stopped in front of me and took his thumb and lifted my chin up so I was looking into his refreshing blue eyes. My mouth fell open because I couldn't believe it was him.
"Heya doll face, Ise been waiting ta look at do'se beautiful eyes again." He smirked at me as I remained shocked.
"Sp-p-p-Spot? Is that really you?" I asked as I touched his cheek with my hand. He softly laid his hand on mine and pulled me into a hug. I was hurting all over from him touching my bruises but I didn't care. He was here. We pulled apart and he wiped my tears away.
"Whyse youse crying?"
"I'm happy to see you, not to mention I hurt all over."
"Youse look terrible. What happened to yas?" He asked me. I started to think about my father. I pushed Spot towards the door, afraid that my father will hurt him.
"You have to leave. Hurry! You have to go! He's going to come back soon!"
"Sweetz! Wait!" He stopped moving and embraced me into a hug. "Don't do dis."
""You need to leave. He'll hurt you. Please leave." This only made his embrace tighter.
"I'd rather have him hoit me den youse. I'm not going anywhere's." I looked up into his eyes, they were filled with both trust and hope.
"You need to leave." I pushed him to the door and I opened the door. "You have to leave." I pushed him out of the door and closed it. I then quickly locked the door afraid that he'll come back in. I looked in the stained glass window and saw Spot staring right back. I put my hand on the glass as a tear dropped to the ground. I quickly turned my face and returned to my chores
2 WEEKS LATER…
The days grew colder because it was almost Christmas. Morris stopped coming over and my father told me that he released him because he was hanging out with the newsies. That's okay I guess. It does mean that I stop going out and my father has to do all the errands. I can't say that I won't miss the outdoors, the fresh air, and the sound of my friends yelling out headlines. Should I still call them my friends? Its almost been three months, would any of them remember me? Who cares? I have things to do. My father is threatening to send me to the 'whore house' or go to the refuge because I haven't been doing all the things he says. It really doesn't matter where I go. I've visited both of them. They're the same thing as to living with my father. The whore house is probably the worse of the two. If you don't do what the paying customer wants then you go to the basement. There are two ways to get to the basement.
1.) You don't do what the paying customer wants
2.) You don't look the way they want you to
In the basement you go without food for two days and I wouldn't be surprised if some of the people in the basement beat you up. It gets crowded and there's hardly any room for five people.
In the refuge you are locked up with the same sex. Usually girls don't go there, so they have private rooms, also known as the 'cage'. In the room it consists of a bed, nightstand, one barred window, and a candle. If the candle goes out then too bad. They don't care. All they have to make sure of is that the kids are in and alive.
If I had to pick then I'd probably pick the whore house. I guess it's the fact that its easier to runaway there. Yes, I'll have to be under someone else's authority, but I don't care. My father has already have me sleep with four of his friends. The money they give my father goes towards my fathers liquor and other whores. The only good thing that came out of it was that I got some great tips. In one night I made as much as a newsie in a week. But I do dream. Every night I go to sleep dreaming of poker, hot nights so we can go swimming in Brooklyn, Tibby's, the feeling of being free. Freedom? What's that?
I can't remember the tasted of blueberries, hot dogs, or even the taste of chocolate. I'm skinny now and I guess I have developed more. I think that I look better, well, minus all the cuts and bruises. If only Spot could see me. Maybe then he'd take me back. I doubt it, but a girl can dream, can't they?
That reminds me, I saw Queenie the other day. I snuck out of the house and was walking down to Irving Hall. I just wanted to hear Medda one more time. Well anyways, Queenie was crying. I would've ran over but I saw a figure embrace her. They walked over to a light and I recognized the figure. It was Skittery. I remember him wiping away her tears and kissing her gently.
How romantic could that get? I never expected that from Skittery. Wait a minute. Queenie crying? She never cries. The last time I saw tears in her eyes was when she accidentally hit Spot in the most private of privates with her slingshot, and she was laughing hysterically.
That was a time when I was happy and with Spot. How is it that Spot is the only one that could make me smile, laugh, love, trust, and yet make me cry? Its funny on how one person can change your life soo dramatically.
"Samantha!" My father yelled angrily from the parlor.
"Coming." I quickly finished dusting the shelves and ran into the parlor. I bowed my head and stepped in. "May I help you?"
"Actually I have some news fer you." I saw out of the corner of my eyes that he sat down in his chair. I stood up straighter. "Please, sit." Huh? Did he just say sit? He asked me a question.
"Yes sir." I walked over to a chair that was by my father.
"I've got some news that has to deal with you. You see, I've gotten new help. So I'm no longer in need of yours. So I am releasing you." My head shot up.
"Releasing me?"
"You are no longer welcomed here. You may go wherever you wish."
"May I know the time that I shall leave?"
"You are to leave immediately. Hurry up now. Get your things and leave." My smile was so big. I quickly ran upstairs and threw all my stuff into a bag. I ran downstairs and out the door. I practically ran all the way to the distribution center. When I got there, no one was in sight. I ran up to the door and pounded on it til I heard a voice I recognized.
"No papes today! Leave."
"Aww Morris. You kicking an old friend out?"
"Old friend? Hand on." The door opened and his grin grew. "Sweetz, whatcha doing? Yer gonna get yer ass killed."
"My father released me. Can you believe it?" He shook his head.
"Dats great. Whatcha gonna do now?"
"I don't know. I know there are openings at the Penn House down on 23rd."
"YOuse kidding. Dats a whore house." He chuckled out.
"Yea I know it is."
"Why dontcha just stay wit da newsies?"
"Do you think there will be room?"
"Whyse don't we go check." He extended his arm out and I took it. We were walking closer and closer as I became more nervous. So many questions raced through my head.
"Youse ready?" Morris asked me as we stood outside the Lodging House. I looked at him confused on why he'd ask me a question. And that's when it hit me.
I don't know who I am
I don't know if I'm a whore, street rat, or scum? What am I going to be like without someone there putting boundaries out for me. That's when I realized something. The best part of life is figuring out things by yourself.
"I'm ready." I put on a brave face as Morris held my hand and led me inside. Morris then led me to the Kloppmann's desk. It was the same one as before. I walked right up to him.
"Welcome to da-"
"Heya Kloppy, you haven't changed." I smiled, remembering all the good times.
"Sweetz, nice ta see you again. You've changed."
"I hope for the best." He eyed me and nodded.
"Definitely for da best." I smiled and I could feel myself blushing.
"Thank you, but I was wondering if you have any room here." He looked at his sign in book/
"Yes we do, its right next ta Jacks." I handed him some money and then Morris led me up the stairs. We paused as we reached the door. Oh god, I don't think I've ever been this nervous before. Morris opened the door and was greeted my most newsies. Then it became quiet as I entered. I let go of Morris' hand and crossed my arms. I heard a few cards fall to the ground and a few whispers.
"Sweetz?" I looked towards the washroom and there stood Racetrack. Tears started to swell up in my eyes.
"Race?" My arms dropped to my sides and I walked over to him. Once I was at least a foot away, I decided to speak up. "How's it going?" Race smiled at me with that crooked smile.
"I'm doing good, doing really good at da races." I smiled and we both hugged each other tight as if the world was ending.
"I've missed you." I whispered into his ear.
"Missed youse too."
"Who's yer new goil Race?" Both me and Race let go and faced the voice. I turned to look at Spot. As Spots mouth hung low I walked over to him and lifted up his chin so his moth was closed.
"Control your drooling Conlon." He smirked at me as he lifted me up in the air, hugging me tightly. And leaving me feeling safe once again.
_____________________________________--
What do you think will happen?
Review now
3 always
SaMi~!
_____
Sweetz's POV
_____
"Just kill me already! Youse know you want to!" I screamed at my father who had me pinned up to the wall.
/This torture isn't worth living for. Nothing is./
"Just let me die, please." I began to sob softly as he released my wrists and let me fall to the ground. "Kill me please. Just kill me. Let me die." I said sadly as I cried. I felt so weak and I was giving up easily.
/What happened to the tough Sweetz?/
I cried even harder because I realized that I was different. I have changed into a weak and vulnerable person.
"Please dad, do dis fer me. No one will care. I'm just a street rat. Just kill me. I want you to kill me. I want you, the one who gave me life, to take it away." I heard his footsteps walk out of the room. I examined my body. It was full of bruises and cuts. I couldn't even look at myself in the mirror anymore. I looked hideous. And not even Morris can recognize me. Morris and I would walk down the streets together. I usually wear my uniform which includes a scarf to cover up my face, a dress, and sandal like shoes.
Every now and then I saw the newsies. They looked so happy. Happier cause I'm not there to bring them down. I guess life is harder then I thought.
"Sweetz?" I wiped my tears away and bowed my head.
"Hello, how may I help you?" I stood up and kept my head down. My father told me that I should never look anybody in the eye cause I am the scum of the earth.
"What happened to yer accent?" My father once told me that if I got rid of my accent, then he wouldn't beat me up as bad. So I took that offer. What would anybody else have done?
"Does it matter?" I said irritated. "Now don't ever call me Sweetz again or father will never let me forget it."
"How come youse aint looking at me?"
"Because I am not worthy to meet your eyes gaze." I heard him walk closer to me. He stopped in front of me and took his thumb and lifted my chin up so I was looking into his refreshing blue eyes. My mouth fell open because I couldn't believe it was him.
"Heya doll face, Ise been waiting ta look at do'se beautiful eyes again." He smirked at me as I remained shocked.
"Sp-p-p-Spot? Is that really you?" I asked as I touched his cheek with my hand. He softly laid his hand on mine and pulled me into a hug. I was hurting all over from him touching my bruises but I didn't care. He was here. We pulled apart and he wiped my tears away.
"Whyse youse crying?"
"I'm happy to see you, not to mention I hurt all over."
"Youse look terrible. What happened to yas?" He asked me. I started to think about my father. I pushed Spot towards the door, afraid that my father will hurt him.
"You have to leave. Hurry! You have to go! He's going to come back soon!"
"Sweetz! Wait!" He stopped moving and embraced me into a hug. "Don't do dis."
""You need to leave. He'll hurt you. Please leave." This only made his embrace tighter.
"I'd rather have him hoit me den youse. I'm not going anywhere's." I looked up into his eyes, they were filled with both trust and hope.
"You need to leave." I pushed him to the door and I opened the door. "You have to leave." I pushed him out of the door and closed it. I then quickly locked the door afraid that he'll come back in. I looked in the stained glass window and saw Spot staring right back. I put my hand on the glass as a tear dropped to the ground. I quickly turned my face and returned to my chores
2 WEEKS LATER…
The days grew colder because it was almost Christmas. Morris stopped coming over and my father told me that he released him because he was hanging out with the newsies. That's okay I guess. It does mean that I stop going out and my father has to do all the errands. I can't say that I won't miss the outdoors, the fresh air, and the sound of my friends yelling out headlines. Should I still call them my friends? Its almost been three months, would any of them remember me? Who cares? I have things to do. My father is threatening to send me to the 'whore house' or go to the refuge because I haven't been doing all the things he says. It really doesn't matter where I go. I've visited both of them. They're the same thing as to living with my father. The whore house is probably the worse of the two. If you don't do what the paying customer wants then you go to the basement. There are two ways to get to the basement.
1.) You don't do what the paying customer wants
2.) You don't look the way they want you to
In the basement you go without food for two days and I wouldn't be surprised if some of the people in the basement beat you up. It gets crowded and there's hardly any room for five people.
In the refuge you are locked up with the same sex. Usually girls don't go there, so they have private rooms, also known as the 'cage'. In the room it consists of a bed, nightstand, one barred window, and a candle. If the candle goes out then too bad. They don't care. All they have to make sure of is that the kids are in and alive.
If I had to pick then I'd probably pick the whore house. I guess it's the fact that its easier to runaway there. Yes, I'll have to be under someone else's authority, but I don't care. My father has already have me sleep with four of his friends. The money they give my father goes towards my fathers liquor and other whores. The only good thing that came out of it was that I got some great tips. In one night I made as much as a newsie in a week. But I do dream. Every night I go to sleep dreaming of poker, hot nights so we can go swimming in Brooklyn, Tibby's, the feeling of being free. Freedom? What's that?
I can't remember the tasted of blueberries, hot dogs, or even the taste of chocolate. I'm skinny now and I guess I have developed more. I think that I look better, well, minus all the cuts and bruises. If only Spot could see me. Maybe then he'd take me back. I doubt it, but a girl can dream, can't they?
That reminds me, I saw Queenie the other day. I snuck out of the house and was walking down to Irving Hall. I just wanted to hear Medda one more time. Well anyways, Queenie was crying. I would've ran over but I saw a figure embrace her. They walked over to a light and I recognized the figure. It was Skittery. I remember him wiping away her tears and kissing her gently.
How romantic could that get? I never expected that from Skittery. Wait a minute. Queenie crying? She never cries. The last time I saw tears in her eyes was when she accidentally hit Spot in the most private of privates with her slingshot, and she was laughing hysterically.
That was a time when I was happy and with Spot. How is it that Spot is the only one that could make me smile, laugh, love, trust, and yet make me cry? Its funny on how one person can change your life soo dramatically.
"Samantha!" My father yelled angrily from the parlor.
"Coming." I quickly finished dusting the shelves and ran into the parlor. I bowed my head and stepped in. "May I help you?"
"Actually I have some news fer you." I saw out of the corner of my eyes that he sat down in his chair. I stood up straighter. "Please, sit." Huh? Did he just say sit? He asked me a question.
"Yes sir." I walked over to a chair that was by my father.
"I've got some news that has to deal with you. You see, I've gotten new help. So I'm no longer in need of yours. So I am releasing you." My head shot up.
"Releasing me?"
"You are no longer welcomed here. You may go wherever you wish."
"May I know the time that I shall leave?"
"You are to leave immediately. Hurry up now. Get your things and leave." My smile was so big. I quickly ran upstairs and threw all my stuff into a bag. I ran downstairs and out the door. I practically ran all the way to the distribution center. When I got there, no one was in sight. I ran up to the door and pounded on it til I heard a voice I recognized.
"No papes today! Leave."
"Aww Morris. You kicking an old friend out?"
"Old friend? Hand on." The door opened and his grin grew. "Sweetz, whatcha doing? Yer gonna get yer ass killed."
"My father released me. Can you believe it?" He shook his head.
"Dats great. Whatcha gonna do now?"
"I don't know. I know there are openings at the Penn House down on 23rd."
"YOuse kidding. Dats a whore house." He chuckled out.
"Yea I know it is."
"Why dontcha just stay wit da newsies?"
"Do you think there will be room?"
"Whyse don't we go check." He extended his arm out and I took it. We were walking closer and closer as I became more nervous. So many questions raced through my head.
"Youse ready?" Morris asked me as we stood outside the Lodging House. I looked at him confused on why he'd ask me a question. And that's when it hit me.
I don't know who I am
I don't know if I'm a whore, street rat, or scum? What am I going to be like without someone there putting boundaries out for me. That's when I realized something. The best part of life is figuring out things by yourself.
"I'm ready." I put on a brave face as Morris held my hand and led me inside. Morris then led me to the Kloppmann's desk. It was the same one as before. I walked right up to him.
"Welcome to da-"
"Heya Kloppy, you haven't changed." I smiled, remembering all the good times.
"Sweetz, nice ta see you again. You've changed."
"I hope for the best." He eyed me and nodded.
"Definitely for da best." I smiled and I could feel myself blushing.
"Thank you, but I was wondering if you have any room here." He looked at his sign in book/
"Yes we do, its right next ta Jacks." I handed him some money and then Morris led me up the stairs. We paused as we reached the door. Oh god, I don't think I've ever been this nervous before. Morris opened the door and was greeted my most newsies. Then it became quiet as I entered. I let go of Morris' hand and crossed my arms. I heard a few cards fall to the ground and a few whispers.
"Sweetz?" I looked towards the washroom and there stood Racetrack. Tears started to swell up in my eyes.
"Race?" My arms dropped to my sides and I walked over to him. Once I was at least a foot away, I decided to speak up. "How's it going?" Race smiled at me with that crooked smile.
"I'm doing good, doing really good at da races." I smiled and we both hugged each other tight as if the world was ending.
"I've missed you." I whispered into his ear.
"Missed youse too."
"Who's yer new goil Race?" Both me and Race let go and faced the voice. I turned to look at Spot. As Spots mouth hung low I walked over to him and lifted up his chin so his moth was closed.
"Control your drooling Conlon." He smirked at me as he lifted me up in the air, hugging me tightly. And leaving me feeling safe once again.
_____________________________________--
What do you think will happen?
Review now
3 always
SaMi~!