Author's Note: Wow, I'm surprised. Everyone thought that David was the one that died. I guess that's a good thing since it's somebody else. And no one expected who it was. *grins*
Shout Outs:
Rae-zin ~ Don't worry, hun. It's not Dave! Secret's poor boyfriend is still alive, LOL!
Aki ~ Me, evil? Nah… : )
Lange ~ Oooh, a sequel. You just gave me a wicked cool idea… And you know what, you actually mentioned Kloppy in you review, excellent!
Taylor ~ Nope, I still saved Dave (for now… Mwahahaha!)
Dice ~ It could have been anyone, that's why it's so much fun to decide who's next to go!
Sami ~ I totally agree : )
Raider ~ *nods* I think I like being evil : )
Derby ~ Nope, twasn't Skitts neither!
Sugar ~ *blushes* Thanks ever so much!
Rumor ~ OMG, I read that MHC book and I loved it! It's actually helping me figure out how to make my OC act! I'm so glad that there's someone else out there who's read that!
Holiday ~ Here's your update! Read to find out what happened.
Dragonfly ~ Yes, I think you should update your fic *hands you a pencil* Go!
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September 2, 1899
Dear Journal,
Well, I just got back from Kloppman's funeral. It's so hard to believe that that nice gentleman is gone. Who could be so evil as to kill him?
Secrets held tight to David's hand as a young, well-dressed woman stood in front of them all. Everyone has showed up at Kloppman's grave to pay their final respects as he was buried.
The woman, looking entirely out of place wearing a lovely light blue dress, while all the other attendants at the funeral were wearing the best of their street clothes. Which wasn't surprising, they were only poor orphans and runaways after all.
Tears were glistening in her brown eyes as she pushed back a stray piece of her brown hair. With a deep breath, she began to address them. "Hello. My name is Lisa Kloppman, and Edward Kloppman was my father. I haven't spoken with him in over three years ever since I moved to a wealthy suburb in New Jersey. He, being the stubborn man he was, refused to leave his 'children', namely all of the newsboys who lived in the lodging house he had purchased when my mother had died, and we parted ways. We did keep in touch through letters, but I always declined his offers to visit. I always thought I was too busy to pay him a visit. Now, it pains me that the next time I saw my father was at the city morgue yesterday after I arrived here." Lisa stopped speaking for a moment as the tears spilled over her cheeks and she stared down at the casket she had purchased. "I'm sorry, daddy. I'm so sorry, I can't believe anyone could do this to you…" she whispered to the ground, though all the children surrounding her could do nothing but hear her apologies.
They all stood in silence for a moment as Lisa knelt down by the casket and stared up into the sky. Then, all at once, she stood up, wiped her eyes and addressed the crowd once more. "Now, I would like to invite the one my father called his favorite, Mr. Jack Kelly."
Lisa stepped aside and let a very pale Cowboy take the spot in front of everyone. "When Ms. Kloppman heah asked me if I'd give da eulogy t'ing fer Kloppman, I couldn't t'ink o' anyt'ing I wanted ta say. But, as I stand heah in front o' all o' you'se, I have so many feelin's, so many emotions. I'se jist havin' a hard time getting' dem out." Jack shuddered as he took a steadying breath. "Kloppman was moah dan jist da ownah o' da place dat we lived at, he was our friend. 'Membah da time dat Snydah was lookin' fer me an' Kloppman helped me out? But he ain't he no moah…"
As Jack continued on with his eulogy, the words just coming to him now that he had started, Secrets glanced over at David and squeezed his hand. "How's Jack doin'?" she whispered.
David grinned half-heartedly, "I swear, Secrets. This all is just killing him. And the fact that he was the one who found Kloppman…"
Secrets nodded. It was Jack who had found Kloppman murdered.
That morning, the morning of August 30, Jack had awoken before any of the others and crept downstairs. Ever since Stress had been found murdered in that alley, Jack had been having nightmares, though the only two who knew about them were David and Kloppman. That night Jack had dreamt that Stress was calling his name for help as she was being stabbed but all he did was walk on by.
He had slowly walked down the stairs of the lodging house, eager to tell Kloppman about his most recent dream; Kloppman, like David, had the ability to calm him down and remind him that it wasn't his fault that his girlfriend had been killed.
"Hey Kloppy?" He called as he entered the lobby, knowing that Kloppman would already be up and at work at his desk. Jack laughed to himself as he saw Kloppman leaned over on his desk, appearing to be fast asleep. "Kloppy? Git up awlready, I gotta tawk ta you'se."
Jack walked around to the front of his desk and shook Kloppman's arm gently. When Kloppman didn't stir, he shook him a little more roughly. Unfortunately for Jack, with the force of the motion, it cause Kloppman's head to loll to the side.
"Oh my Gawd!" Jack yelled when he spied Kloppman's face; the face was purely pale, the eyes were wide open in shock and, planted right in the middle of his forehead, was a blood-red kiss mark. "No!!!!!"
"I know, Dave. Foist it was his goil, now Kloppy. I don't know how he's soivivin'."
"Just barely, Secrets, just barely."
Just then, Jack -- the brave, strong Cowboy -- broke down into tears and started to yell in grief. "Why? Foist Stress, den Morris an' now Kloppy! I sweah, as Gawd as me witness, I'se gonna kill whoevah's doin' dis. I ain't gonna let no moah people git hoit! It jist ain't fair!!"
The crowd stood in silence as the one they thought would never fall apart, never break down, began to crumble before their very eyes.
David gasped as he stood up abruptly. He turned to look at Secrets, who reluctantly nodded. "I undahstand, Dave."
He leaned over and gave her a peck on the cheek before sprinting over to Jack's side. He put his around Jack's shoulder and began to lead him away, making sure to detour around the area where Stress had been buried just two weeks before.
Secrets watched as Lisa Kloppman walked to the front once more, her face showing that she wanted, more than anything, to follow Jack's example and scream out her pain. But she didn't. "Thank you all for saying goodbye to my father. If you care to come with me afterwards, I would be more than delighted to buy you all dinner." And with that she motioned to the grave digger and his assistants, the three of them who had been watching the funeral from the side, to move forward and to lower the casket into the Earth.
As most of her friends whispered their goodbyes to Kloppman and followed his daughter out of the cemetery, Secrets waited until the gravedigger had lowered the casket and covered it with dirt. Then, once they shouldered their shovels and walked away, Secrets stood there and plucked a daisy from the ground. As she tossed the daisy down, her eyes glittered and her voice changed. "I'm sorry, sir. But you should have let me into the lodging house that night. There isn't a curfew that can prevent Kisses from doing what she wants."
She then fell to her knees and clutched her head as a sharp pain soared through it.
Once the pain subsided, about a half an hour later, Secrets pulled herself up and rubbed her temples. "Goodbye, Mr. Kloppman. I don't think you deserved to die, and I hope they catch your killer soon," she murmured before turning and beginning to walk back to the Bottle Alley Lodging House, wondering the entire way how a single daisy had been placed on top of Kloppman's grave. She had been the only one to stay at the gravesite.
***
Once she made her way home, she climbed up the steps warily and crossed her fingers that no one else would have arrived back yet.
She was in luck, for she was, save Mrs. Cook who had declined the invitation to Kloppman's funeral and locked herself in the sick room to grieve by herself, entirely alone.
"Good," she whispered aloud as she removed her journal from under her pillow and began to scribble away all about the funeral, the third funeral she had attended since becoming friends with all the newsies. She just hoped there would be no more.
As she sat there, debating what to write next – and still wondering how all that blood had gotten all over her journal – Secrets noticed that there was already writing on the next page.
Layna,
I hope you have fun at the funeral today and I am sorry that that nice man had to die. But, oh well, that's one less in the way, right? Isn't that what I told you before? I think so. Oh, and say hello to my friend Cowboy for me. I shall be seeing him soon. Then all of this will be over and we can go back to being happy. I'll be happy, you'll be happy, we'll be happy.
Kisses
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