Chapter 1- The Fire Reflected

Some have a stable, civilized life with no other anecdote but when they spilled their coffee before the noble and rich or they forgot which fork to use during the first course of a banquet. Others have more amusing tales such as how they came to be married to their spouse, their first meeting when they fell off the docks after being distracted by their one true love. Myself, well this is not a story about me or the struggles of a newsgirl in Manhattan at the turn of the century. But this is one of those stories that must be told. One that can change the way the world is looked at, it certainly changed my way of life and I will never forget. That's why I'm recording it in this journal before it fades from memory so I can give it to my brother for a birthday gift.

It centers around my twin brother and his one true soul mate, the person I knew he belonged with from the moment she stormed in through the lodging house door. Others come into play like in any other tale and affect the outcome of their relationship. Struggles, toils, and hardships circulate around them but that's what life is all about. Overcoming the obstacles before your desires and never giving up.

Throughout my life I watched Anthony Higgins grow into the person he was born to be and watched as he evolved from a boy into a man. A man that could look steadily at his reflection without cringing away. Those who knew him as an acquaintance would say he was a confident individual with an independent spirit locked inside of him as well as a worthy gambling opponent. Those close to him knew of what lay beneath the mask and besides the witty comments and aforementioned how he longed to belong. How he wanted to be free of the suffocating chains of society but wanted deeply, so deeply I doubt he even knew it, to belong somewhere and with someone. He was a strong individual with an always ready retort and each day was a battle with life. He would never give up turning each and every day into something worthwhile as he fought to not be consumed by the tragedies he faced every day.

Being his twin sister I knew what deeply lay in his heart and that one thing was the newest addition to the Lower East Side Lodging House family. Sixteen years old and ready to take on the world, it was evident from the flame in her bright green eyes. She came to us dressed in mere rags and I could see the raging fire reflected in her eyes how close she came to death from the sexist people of our time. From the aura dancing about her I knew what kind of person she was and from the moment I laid eyes on her my mind burst into a picture of my brother. Strong willed, she would not be devoured by rules and created her own as she danced to the beat of a different drummer. I knew she would bring trouble from her deadly, mischievous smirk that she advertised for all to see and I knew to just prove she didn't care what any of us thought she went to lengths to prove herself to us. She did, of course, but especially to my brother.

We all took her in like another of us; one with nothing left but a past too painful to recall except for in the deepest depths of night when we were awoken by vivid nightmares. The boys treated her like another little sister added to their collection while my fellow females treated her like a long lost sister that served as a best friend. We knew not the turmoil our stable borough of Manhattan would become after her arrival. I asked Frances 'Jack Kelly' Sullivan before I began this if he would've welcomed her if he knew the consequence. That cocky smirk came in place as he firmly stated, "Sure, I can handle anythin."

It wasn't that at the time for nobody could control her. I still remember what drove her to life at the lodging house and that is where the true story begins. On that clear night in October when the orphaned newsies of Manhattan were safe inside the bunkroom playing poker, talking, gossiping, and joking, and most of us just out to annoy the heck out of each other. Little did we know of the crimes committed just a few blocks away and if we did there would be little we could do. It was life in New York City and it couldn't be helped.

The street reverberated with the cries and screams of innocent civilians as they peered out of their apartments and when one within proximity was spotted a gunshot rang out until the owner slumped to the ground. One by one the peering eyes disappeared and all that could be heard was screams of pain and anguish by the young and old. The scent of burning flesh rose into the sky from the bodies being cremated alive just for working for an enemy of the blood thirsty Crypts. The darkness was illuminated by one thing and one thing only-the red and orange glow of a burning building before a blanket of thick darkness. A myriad of stars lay above but they were slowly being obscured by the smoke soaring into the night sky.

With narrowed eyes Fern Irisone watched this as she cowered in the shadows of a nearby doorway. She could see people plunging to their death as they lost all sense and jumped from the window, stories high. Some made it out alive and they soon vanished in the thick smoke but most didn't creep past the inhumane guards.

One entered her line of vision and he was cackling maniacally as he listened to the crying children now most prominent among the other sounds. His greasy black hair was tied back with a spare piece of string and she instantaneously recognized him as one of those who had seized her parent's captive. Although she could not see them she felt those merciless blue eyes boring into her own and that just sparked her vengeance.

As silent as a prowling cat she stealthily crept behind him and readied herself for attack. Without blade, pistol, or slingshot a painful death was near inevitable but at the moment her senses were like those jumping out of windows above- swept away from the horrors of the moment. Her mind was numb and the shrieks faded into the background as she stood behind him with a murderous glint. If it came down to it she knew she'd never be able to murder him but for the present that's all her fingers itched to do. So she stood stock-still and contemplated the best move of action, knowing any other would result in excruciating pain before death.

"Rodger!" Bruno shouted jovially as he turned around to point some cold-blooded form of entertainment out to an accomplice. Yet as he turned he was faced with the small and thin form of a teenage girl glowering at him before she blinked in surprise. "Well, well, well, wad do we have heah?"

"Ya blind slimeball?" she screeched, the air seeming to have left her lungs out of fear and she turned on her heel to dart off into the dark oblivion. Despite her roaring temper and vow for revenge her instincts reminded her of the suffering she would face if this Bruno were aware of her assault.

"Not so fast, kid," he growled as he clutched her upper-arm and regardless of her efforts to free herself he had a grip of iron. Her lungs compressed and her head swam with visions of a gruesome death in that second of silence as she struggled. Digging her heels into the ground she pulled with all her might but he just whirled her around to face the burning building and that's when she realized how close to it she was. "Anuddah Irisone. Yeah we'se saw ya when we got yer parents."

The flames reflected in her green eyes as she bit her lip to keep from crying out in fear for she would not show weakness to this monster. She knew he'd have to recall her face since he was one of those who had glimpsed her as her parents were taken captive while the neighbors kept those close to them at bay. They wouldn't let any of their victim's go for that's just how cruel they had grown to be.

She felt as if she watching the scene from somewhere else, as if her soul left her body as it was pushed steadily towards the flames now devouring the minimal vegetation surrounding the building. She kicked, pinched, jammed her elbows into his sides, and used any other free limb to get Bruno to release her but his grip just tightened until it was practically cutting off the circulation in her arm. Tears welled in her eyes since she knew the end was near but she dug her nails into his arm just to cause him the immense pain he was causing her.

"You…damn…son of a…"

"Good thing we'se getting rid of ya now, dollface."

"Good thing we'se getting rid of ya now, dollface," she mimicked, irking Bruno as much as possible. "Ya really have no morals, do ya?"

"We got morals, we'se doing wad's right fer society. Getting rid of people like yer folks was helpin da woild."

"Me parents…"

"Yer muddah was a nurse," Bruno snapped as he shook her in frustration. Less than a foot lay between her and the fire and she could feel the heat radiating towards her. But if she could just keep him talking…

"Wad's dat got ta do wid anything?"

"Women ain't nurses, dey soive der husbands ya dumbass. We stopped dem before oddahs followed dem and we had ta put dem in dere place. Ya see, we'se really jist savin innocent lives." Bruno's upper lip curled into a sneer as he watched his captive processing this excuse before she jammed her elbow into his stomach. Yowling and doubling over he thrust her before him and attempted to toss her into the raging fire. She tried to steady herself from tumbling back first into the roaring and cackling fire as she heard woodwork crashing above. All of her leg muscles throbbed with the strain of supporting her leaning body and she shouted a shrill cry once her arm was scorched as she braced herself for a fall into the glowing flames. Somehow a miracle was granted and she found herself regaining her balance and as soon as two feet were firmly planted on the ground they were off again as she nearly flew away. Her feet barely touched the ground as she ran for her life, ducking blows aimed for her and praying nobody had a gun pointed towards her head.

The Crypts were too disorganized to see her five feet weaving between them and she moved about like a flash so it was impossible for them to know if she was a spot in their eyes from staring into the light of the fire too long. Tears pricked at her eyes as her arm prickled like white-hot needles piercing it and like her flesh was disintegrating. She could barely breathe as she wove about and didn't dare to pause to catch her breath for fear of being tossed into those raging flames. Surely Bruno had shouted out orders for her capture and these intimidating thoughts burst into her mind, only giving her more stamina to run. Eventually all she wanted to do was curl into a ball and not care whatever happened to her but she wasn't even out of the zone with the Crypts yet. It was too difficult to run in a straight line so instead she had to zigzag, often circling the previous place she had run by.

Tripping over her own two feet in her haste her jaw collided with the cobblestones below and the pain rocketed throughout her entire head and her stomach had jolted from the fall. The pain was clouding her brain and the tears now cascaded down her cheeks from images of her parents lynching, fear, pain, and sheer exhaustion. Her moment's rest didn't last for more than ten seconds before she felt her arm being grabbed and she was roughly hauled to her feet. She stood limp and could almost feel the fire burning her again but for the last time.

"How stupid are you?" a female voice shouted in anxiety and Fern's heart skipped a beat as hope hopped inside her but she banished it, not daring to hope she would live through this night. "Run!"

In a fraction of a second she was being half-dragged before her feet moved on their own but still the arm didn't release her. Under any other circumstances her pride would've forced her to refuse the help but considering it was a life or death situation she pushed her pride aside for the time being. She didn't think of anything else as they sped away from all dangerous territory before the screams receded and no longer were there any obvious hints of the battle going on.

Fern stopped in her tracks once deeming it safe and placed her hands on her hips like a furious child. Sensing Fern's footsteps stopping in mid-step her savior paused as well and swung around impatiently with a priceless murderous look.

"What!" she demanded and Fern rolled her eyes as she scowled towards the girl. It had little impact since the other was a good eight inches taller and was about three years her senior as well. Her rich brown hair flowed to her waist and a bit of it was pulled back and her face was clean as well, revealing she was no child of the streets. She was dressed in similar attire although was instead wearing a skirt instead of trousers but it wasn't in the best of conditions.

"Who da hell are ya?" Fern shouted, her slender face alive with confusion. The older girl smirked at her dilemma and she settled into a cool look of indifference, making it apparent how she was the one in control.

"Sarah Jacobs. You gonna give me a name?"

"Wasn't plannin on it but it's Fern," she said nonchalantly.

Sarah sighed conspicuously and Fern turned to walk away in annoyance at the other's arrogance. Before she so much as took a step her arm was seized and she was pulled back. Tears welled in her eyes as pain seared up her arm and she allowed a small whimper to escape her lips out of the pain of the burn. Hearing this, Sarah moved her hand so instead held the girl's lower arm but didn't release her steady grip.

"Sorry. Here, come with me."

"And who died and made you'se da rulah of da woild?"

Giving her an exasperated and stern look Sarah chided, "Nobody but you don't have to bite my head off for trying to help. Your jaws bruising and you've got a nasty burn. You don't have anywhere else to go obviously and plus, Jack's gonna murder me if I don't go back to the lodging house."

Not giving her any time to respond she yanked Fern forwards and on they marched with Fern giving as little resistance as possible while still making it seem like she was in control. Never would she allow another to control her like some marionette and the cards of life would be dealt by her alone. She had avowed that to herself as well as to her mother early on in life and stuck to her promise, especially now that a distant memory was all she had left to hold onto.

Moaning in pain as her toe collided with the cement steps of a worn with age building she let out a stream of curses. Sarah was standing before an open wooden door and the dim golden light smothered them both as it slithered down the steps. Glaring at the older girl's patience she stormed up the steps, pounding on each one to create a ruckus before following Sarah's retreating back through the door.

"Sarah, wad da hell is da big idea wanderin off like dat! Ya coulda gotten killed! Yer bruddah jist went ta tell yer family ya wandered off an HOUR AGO!" Jack's face was bilious with rage and his face was turning red as he yelled at the only woman he allowed his heart. She winced at his tone before refuting.

"I told you I was going for a walk to clear my mind, Jack!"

"A walk takes ten minutes," he said tensely.

I stood watching all of this unfold from the wooden steps trodden upon for years by rambunctious street kids. My brother was shuffling a deck of cards in his hand as he sat beside me, not bothering to lift his head to watch the scene progress. Around a half an hour before Jack had folded from the poker game that he was losing horribly to Racetrack and had come down to the ground floor to busy himself with pacing. It was the leader in him that made him so protective over anything he claimed as his own since he cared so deeply of those he watched over, especially the girl that had stolen his breath. It was then I first noticed the girl standing beside Sarah with a satisfied smirk on her face and her arms crossed triumphantly. Her light auburn hair framed her fair skin and it curved in towards the bottom that only reached a couple inches below her shoulders. Her face was flushed and tear stained and I could see the shadow of a bruise forming.

I nudged my twin who looked up at me in annoyance before I jerked my head in the direction of the teenage girl. He followed my gaze and his eyes widened in surprise and alarm before a spark went off in them like I had never before seen as he stared at her. His body tensed beside me and I could tell his mouth was drying, already telling me of his indiscreet feelings towards the newcomer. He stood up just as David came to join the argument and cleared his throat importantly so all eyes snapped towards him.

"Sorry ta interrupt dis liddle family scene but we have a lady in our presence."

"Thanks, Race. It took you long enough to realize I'm a woman."

"You're a goil, Sarah! Nah, I was tawkin bout da broad right dere." He flicked his cigar casually to where the girl stood with a quirked eyebrow and all eyes simultaneously turned to her.

"I found her down a few blocks where the Crypts are burning some building."

"Not dat I don't like being referred to as a liddle lost puppy but…yeah, I really don't like it."

Racetrack snorted in amusement and his eyes lit up, leading me further into my assumptions. Sarah looked satisfied that the attention was drawn away from her and poor baffled David was at a loss. Jack, well Jack wouldn't be the leader if he wasn't able to think on his toes and in a swift stride the two came face to face.

"Got a name?"

"Doesn't everybody?"

"Her name's Fern," Sarah stated monotonously as she hopped upon Kloppman's desk and began fiddling with various knick-knacks the man had collected. A change had come over her since she was aquatinted with the newsies during the strike and no longer was she the priss I had taken her for at first sight. Instead I knew she was slowly rebelling against her parent's conservative ideas of a young lady and slowly she loosened until she understood how running down a street after stealing a friend's hat could be fun.

"Weah's yer family, kid?"

"Anuddah tally fer da Crypts," she seethed and I saw the flame burning in her eyes. All of the others had registered it and Jack didn't press the matter, understanding the venom and meaning in her words.

A deafening silence filled the room and the tension was so thick a rock could be thrown to shatter it. Jack seemed to be trying to come up with a line of questions to bombard her with and Racetrack seemed more than willing to come to her aid if need be. Sarah caught my eye and she glance worriedly over to the girl who called herself Fern.

"Dat yer real name or fake name?" Jack was demanding as I turned my attention back to him.

"Real," she said lightly but after catching Sarah's eye I saw the wince she was covering with a strained face. Her eyes were slowly becoming glassy and I knew they were from shining crystal tears threatening to emerge but were being held in so Fern wouldn't face the humiliation of crying before others. Sarah was pointing to her own arm and from that piece of information I pieced together the burn that was no doubt the reason for the tears.

"Yer arm okay?" I asked softly and my voice startled the boy's since I rarely interrupted any boiling argument. She looked towards me helplessly and I saw the desperation in her eyes.

"Wad's wrong wid her arm?" Jack inquired as he glanced between all of the girl's in the room.

"Burn," Sarah answered concernedly and he snatched her arm up and gazed at the raw skin glistening with oils from the remnants of the removed skin.

Within a few moments her arm was wrapped securely in a bandage and she didn't appear too happy with anybody fussing over her so I finally gave into her protests and quit wrapping it for the third time. Maybe I wouldn't have been as petrified of her burn if I hadn't seen my own father with a similar one, except deeper and on his cheek which permanently disfigured his handsome face.

"Well ya jist can't throw her out on da streets," Sarah hissed and I evasively glanced to where she stood with her boyfriend almost entirely beneath the stairs.

"Not da streets but I hoid da orphanage was great dis time of yeah."

"Jack, please. My cousin died at one of the orphanages."

"I know, Sarah, I'se only kiddin."

"Well it wasn't funny!"

"Ya know we can heah every word," Fern announced and the two of them appeared with their cheeks flaming. Race grinned and winked at the two of them from where he sat next to Fern on Kloppman's desk.

"Ya can stay since we ain't got nowhere else ta put ya. I'll tawk ta Kloppman bout it in da moinin but dere's probably an empty bunk free. Two cents a night and unless ya got some money stored somewheah you'll be selling papahs wid da rest of us." Jack said wearily, accepting defeat. And what Jack said was law so her living situation was permanent until he (and I figured she) decided otherwise.

"Fair enough."

With that the great escapade began. Jack bid David and Sarah a goodnight before ushering the three of us up the stairs and it became my duty to instruct the newest edition to the family about the tiny things such as to never call Kid Blink Patch Boy and to be aware that Snitch couldn't keep a secret for longer than two minutes, his record and then he was half asleep. She didn't seem to pay much heed and shrugged off every word I said, declaring she'd find all of this out for herself and I feared what the next couple of days would bring.

Inside the darkness of the bunkroom I pointed to where her bunk would be located, right below mine and next to my dearest brother. We couldn't afford a spare room for the girl's so instead our bunks were clustered and located in the middle of the second row. There weren't many of us, only four but the boy's seemed to think that was enough, explaining Jack's reluctance to allow her to join.

Seconds after I had laid down I heard her steady breathing from below me and as I rolled to my side I glanced down to find Racetrack lost to his thoughts and watching the angelic look that had come upon her as she slept.

"Night Race," I giggled and he looked towards me alarmed but smirked, regaining his composure.

"Night Sparrow."