OK i know i haven't updated in forever but it is only because of the fact i
left my notebook, which has this story in it at my friend's house, so now
it is freshly updated!
Oh and i dont own newsies... like always!!
Chapter 7.
It started to rain but we sat there still, not moving or noticing the water trickling down our faces.
"Wanna go fer a walk?" he asked standing up.
"But its rainin'," I replied.
He pulled me up. "Its jist rain. It ain't like ya nevah been in it befoah!"
I finally gave in and agreed to go on a walk. We climbed down the slippery fire escape and we started walking. The lodging house started to fade in the distance and the lights of stores started to shine as it grew darker.
"So about yer past, wat happened?" Tweak asked shoving his hands into his pockets.
"Lots of stuff," I replied.
"Well, can ya tell me? I mean if it won't make ya cry or nottin like dat," he asked as we walked into the park.
"A-aright," I said thinking of where to begin. I started to think of everything that had happened to me that was worth talking about.
I finally figured out where to start, "When I was little me faddah left my muddah. When I was seven me mom married dis drunk she met at a party, he hated my Ma and me, but fer some odd reason she loved him. He told her to send me to a boarding school in Boston but she refused to send me anywhere." I stopped for a minute.
"Dang, dats harsh," Tweak said. "Go on."
I took a deep breath and started again, "So instead I was kept inside, with a tutor. I wasn't aloud to play outside unless in the backyard, where there was only a small dead garden. Everyday after my boring grammar lessons I would go and play in the back, the whole time looking through a small crack in the gate. Outside the gate there was grass, trees, and kids everywhere. At night I would dream of being one of those kids playing, calling out headlines, or even the kids being hit by older kids, I just wanted to get out." I stopped and looked down, and began again.
"My step dad started getting drunk more often which led to me getting beaten when he came home. One time when he was beating me my mom tried to stop him but he broke her arm and she decided not to help me anymore. From that day she never talked and became heartless, it was like all her kindness was locked inside and no one could bring it out of her. When I was nine I decided that I didn't care anymore, that I was going to die someday anyway, and that I would go and play with the other kids out front. I decided that being scared of my step dad wasn't worth it anymore I knew what would happen every night when he came home, so I figured that if I was inside before he was home I'd be fine." I looked up and sighed.
"So how'd ya git heah? And what happened to the way ya tawk youse soundin all propah," He asked noticing I wasn't using any slang like I normally did.
"Nottin happened ta it," I answered. I decided I'd skip everything else and tell him how I ended up in Chicago. "My parents were killed and deir murderahs kidnapped me," I said softly, as I started to cry.
"Ise sorry," he put his warm hands on my cold face and wiped a tear from my eye.
I turned away before he could say anything else. Tweak let out a heavy sigh and realized that he should have kept his hands to himself. I hesitated at first thinking if I should give in and cry or run away, I decided that I'd leave.
"No wait Ise sorry... don't go out there you might get hurt!" he called after me but I started running and he gave up.
it is freshly updated!
Oh and i dont own newsies... like always!!
Chapter 7.
It started to rain but we sat there still, not moving or noticing the water trickling down our faces.
"Wanna go fer a walk?" he asked standing up.
"But its rainin'," I replied.
He pulled me up. "Its jist rain. It ain't like ya nevah been in it befoah!"
I finally gave in and agreed to go on a walk. We climbed down the slippery fire escape and we started walking. The lodging house started to fade in the distance and the lights of stores started to shine as it grew darker.
"So about yer past, wat happened?" Tweak asked shoving his hands into his pockets.
"Lots of stuff," I replied.
"Well, can ya tell me? I mean if it won't make ya cry or nottin like dat," he asked as we walked into the park.
"A-aright," I said thinking of where to begin. I started to think of everything that had happened to me that was worth talking about.
I finally figured out where to start, "When I was little me faddah left my muddah. When I was seven me mom married dis drunk she met at a party, he hated my Ma and me, but fer some odd reason she loved him. He told her to send me to a boarding school in Boston but she refused to send me anywhere." I stopped for a minute.
"Dang, dats harsh," Tweak said. "Go on."
I took a deep breath and started again, "So instead I was kept inside, with a tutor. I wasn't aloud to play outside unless in the backyard, where there was only a small dead garden. Everyday after my boring grammar lessons I would go and play in the back, the whole time looking through a small crack in the gate. Outside the gate there was grass, trees, and kids everywhere. At night I would dream of being one of those kids playing, calling out headlines, or even the kids being hit by older kids, I just wanted to get out." I stopped and looked down, and began again.
"My step dad started getting drunk more often which led to me getting beaten when he came home. One time when he was beating me my mom tried to stop him but he broke her arm and she decided not to help me anymore. From that day she never talked and became heartless, it was like all her kindness was locked inside and no one could bring it out of her. When I was nine I decided that I didn't care anymore, that I was going to die someday anyway, and that I would go and play with the other kids out front. I decided that being scared of my step dad wasn't worth it anymore I knew what would happen every night when he came home, so I figured that if I was inside before he was home I'd be fine." I looked up and sighed.
"So how'd ya git heah? And what happened to the way ya tawk youse soundin all propah," He asked noticing I wasn't using any slang like I normally did.
"Nottin happened ta it," I answered. I decided I'd skip everything else and tell him how I ended up in Chicago. "My parents were killed and deir murderahs kidnapped me," I said softly, as I started to cry.
"Ise sorry," he put his warm hands on my cold face and wiped a tear from my eye.
I turned away before he could say anything else. Tweak let out a heavy sigh and realized that he should have kept his hands to himself. I hesitated at first thinking if I should give in and cry or run away, I decided that I'd leave.
"No wait Ise sorry... don't go out there you might get hurt!" he called after me but I started running and he gave up.