Today was, I suppose, the annual Brooklyn Lodging House party. Eye let us take the day off, an, following in the tradition of the late photography loving Charles, he took lots of pictures of us, my best being where Eye caught me hanging upside down from a tree.

Take a photograph, it'll be the last.

I didn't know how much I would hurt everyone by leaving that afternoon, but no one could make me stay after what I had lost.

Not a dollar or a dime could ever keep me here.

Five years ago.

I used to sit on the rook all the time. Thinking about the past that wasn't mine, my family that didn't exist.

I don't have a past

I would sit on the roof everyday after we came back from Anderson's. I came everyday and imagined a life with a family sitting and talking at an actual dinner table. I lived a lie to all my fellow newsies, with just a change that someday I would believe myself.

I just have a chance.

And I guess I had always thought about leaving, until I saw her there, where I sat on the rooftop. Sure-Thing, shivering and shaking under the heat of the setting sun. I left her there to worry of her troubles the way I had missed my family my whole life, wishing to believe something that could never be.

Not a family or honest plea remains to say.

The next morning it rained harder than I'd ever seen. I scowled. The rain would make the ink on my papes run, making them useless and unsellable. Fortunately, Eye had in countered this problem I his selling days, and he gave us bags for our papes. I looked around and saw my other fellow newsies scowling. All except her. She was the only one happy to go into the rain that I wished would leave this world.

Rain, rain go away, come again another day, all the world is waiting for the sun.

2 years later

Sure-Thing and I were together now, but we were slowly growing apart and I found myself asking myself, 'why did I even ask her out? Did I even need a goil? Or did I jist not wanna be lonely?'

Is it you I want, or just the notion of…

But I convinced myself that I still wanted her to be my goil. I don't know, but things just made more sense when she was around. Like I walk walking through a fog only she could guide me through.

A heart to wrap around so I can find my way around.

1899(one year ago)

I remember when Jack Kelly first came to Brooklyn to tell Spot about the strike. It was the annual Brooklyn Lodging House day one year ago, and everyone was swimming in the docks when Jack, Boots, and Davey, "the walking mouth" arrived on our turf. After they left, Spot called a meeting, and everyone discussed whether we should help or not. It was Sure-Thing, my goil, the goil standing next to me, she was the one who suggested to Spot that we help Manhattan. Spot said he'd think on it, and not a day later, our prices went up. There was no doubt now that Brooklyn was joining the strike. We were on our ways to becoming famous in history.

Safe to say from here, you're getting closer now

As I think back through out the strike, no one was ever sad. Angry, disappointed, and beaten were most of the emotions. But never sad. The only people who were ever sad were the Jacobs Kids. But they weren't part of the union that had always been. Maybe to Jack, but never in Brooklyn's eyes. I thought maybe if everyone closed their eyes and covered their ears, then everyone could be sad and feel the way they want without anyone knowing that really, deep down inside, everyone was broken and sad beyond all healthy relief. But that could never happen. No on could ever know how anyone felt. Everyone was the same. We were unbreakable.

We are never sad 'cause we are not aloud to be.

The day after we won the strike, it rained. It rained for three weeks, as thought the world had been against us (no pun intended), and it was disappointed when we won the fight. Everything was being worked over with Pulitzer and Hearst still, so the whole time it was raining, they gave us 50 cents everyday. Probably the only person who went out everyday was Sure-Thing, Eye warned her about getting a cold or pneumonia, but she never listened. It made me wish the rain would leave so she wouldn't be able to get sick.

Rain, rain go away, come again another day, all the world is waiting for the sun.

But no matter how hard I wished that the rain would leave, the harder it seemed to pour down. I didn't really, really care about the rain until it started to get cold. The papers were starting to be sold at new things called 'News stands'. Said there was currently a blizzard in Canada that was effecting the north eastern states. I really didn't care about the rain until Sure-Thing came back home to the Lodging House one night, shivering, coughing, and sneezing. I cursed the rain until I was out of breath and my throat was sore. She caught a fever and was bed ridden for two days. Damn Stupid rain.

Rain, rain go away, come again another day, all the world is waiting for the sun.

Three months ago

Eye, about one night a month, combined both bunkrooms, but was very strict on two rules: no sharing beds, and no shagging. Most girls expected the guys to choose the bunks. I chose the one under Sure-Thing, who was swinging her leg over the side of the top bunk, humming one of Medda's songs to herself. I sat on the bunk and talked with her. Just talked. It seemed like the best ting in the world to me, because talking was something we hadn't done in a long time.

To lie here, under you, is all that I could ever do. To lie here under you is all…

I really cared about her. Everyone did. Everyone cared about everyone, no one was just there. Everyone was equal. That's something she taught me. A long time ago, one of the first times we sold together. Everyone is equal, whether we like it or not.

"S.T.," I asked, to tired and lazy to say her full name.

"Tch-ya, Knight?" She slurred, also starting to get tired.

"When you told me dat everyone is equal, why do you tink dat is?" I asked. She always seemed to have the answers for these types of things. Like she was in tune with things people never noticed.

"Well how would you's feel if people shunned you 'cause of who you's are? People do it anyway, but dey're jist procecutin' themselves. Everyone's da same inside, a lot of people jist don' take da time dah notice. Same feelin's. Same emotions. Same answers tah questions people axe dem everyday," She said, swinging one of her legs over the side of the bunk again. I smiled. Having the answer to everything made me like her even more.

To lie here, under you is all that I could ever do. To lie here under you is all…

Last week

Sure-Thing and me were selling, walking on the side walk to Brooklyn Bridge, our usual selling spot. Sure-Thing was singing a new song of Medda's. I don't particularly care for her singing voice, but oh well, what ever made her happy.

"He shot me down, bang, bang, I hit the ground, bang, bang, that awful sound, bang, bang, my baby shot me down…," was something how the song went. I heard thunder over head and felt a raindrop fall on my forehead. We ran under an awning on the bridge to shield ourselves and our papes from getting ruined.

Rain, rain, go away, come again another day, all the world is waiting for the sun.

Out of no where, the stupidest thing happened. Some guy ran up out of no where, grabbed S.T., and put a gun to her head.

"What the crap?" she yelled, turning her head to look at her holder.

"you. Kid. Gimme yoah moneh or yoah goil gets it," He slurred. Ohhh, buddy, this guy was drunk.

"What the crap?!?!" S.T. yelled even louder. The guy tapped the gun on the side of her head.

"Shaddup, I's ain't afraid to blow ya ber-ains out," he slurred more heavily. S.T. dug into her pocket and gave her change to me, which I added to mine, and I plopped the money in the man's hand. It jangled as he put it in his pocket. He smiled at me, picked S.T. up, and threw her over the railing of Brooklyn Bridge. She screamed all the way down, but her scream was suddenly stopped, engulfed by water. Passersby crowded around the railing, looking to down to the water where Sure-Thing fell. I pushed through all of them and as I looked down, I saw the gray had S.T. always wore, floating on the water. People in a boat came by, and a man leaned over, picking up the hat. The rain fell down onto the water to greet Sure-Thing in her watery grave.

Rain, Rain, go away, come again another day, all the world is waiting for the sun.

I went down to the docks and found the boat that had picked up her hat. I got it back from them, and the man who killed her had gotten away. I don't remember going back to the lodging house, I just remember being there, and hearing 'what's wrong, where's S.T.? why do you have her hat?' I don't remember telling everyone, but they knew, after a while. I was lost in darkness, and it was still raining.

All the world is waiting for the sun.

Present Day.

Here I stand, at the train yards, waiting for a new life in California. No one knew I was leaving, but here I am, gone. I'm wearing her hat, and I haven't looked at Brooklyn Bridge since it happened. I am alone in my world, so I'm going to a new one.

All the world is waiting for the sun.

California, where it never rains.