Disclaimer: I don't own the Newsies I own everybody else.
Chapter 1: A Guardian Angel in Disguise
The loud crash of dishes hitting the floor and breaking into a thousand pieces echoed throughout the house, followed closely by the angry stomping of Mrs. Conoga.
"Why did you drop those dishes?" Mrs. Conoga screamed shrilly, her overly plump face purple with rage.
"I-I-I didn't m-mean to, ma'am." Anne, the woman's orphaned niece, replied.
"That's the same excuse you give me every time something goes wrong. I'm just going to have to tell your uncle, now won't I?" an evil gleam in the woman's eyes.
"N-no, please, ma'am. I'll pick it up and I'll work to replace the dishes that fell." The girl pleaded, her face turning as pale as a sheet at the thought of what punishment Mr. Conoga would come up with.
"That simply will not work this time. You would think that after all we've done for you since you parents died you would at least return the favor." Mrs. Conoga stated, turning around to find her husband. "Harold, oh, Harold." She called out in a sinisterly sweet voice.
"Yes, dear."
"I need to speak to you."
3 hours later
"Now I hope you have learned you lesson from Mr. Kilbeckk, Anne." Mr. Conoga sneered at the whimpering girl on the floor of a very shabby room.
"Y-yes, s-sir." Anne stammered, hoping he would take the drunk away.
"Good, now I want you to get cleaned up, in order to go to the market to get some bread." Mr. Conoga said showing Mr. Kilbeckk out.
Once Mr. Conoga shut the door to her room, Anne began to wash herself carefully with the water in the basin in her room not wanting to touch her new bruises from her encounter with Mr. Kilbeckk. When she finally got dressed, she grabbed a basket and put all of her meager belongings in it and put a cloth on top. She had made up her mind, she was going to run away and never come back.
At the Brooklyn Bridge
"Hey, Soccah." Spot shouted.
"Whadda ya want, Spot?" the newsboy replied.
"Me an' some o' da boys are goin' ta Manhattan, did youse want ta come?"
"Nah, I'se got some t'ings ta do." Soccer answered regretfully.
"Ok."
After Soccer finished selling the evening edition, he walked the streets of Brooklyn enjoying the cool night air. Then while he was passing an alley, he heard a girl weeping. He went into the alley in search of who was doing the crying. Soccer found a girl of about 17, sitting in the corner hugging her knees to her chest with her head resting on her knees.
Soccer cleared his throat, causing her head to jerk up, "Is dere anyt'ing wrong, miss?" noting the look of fear in her eyes as he took a step closer, "I'm not goin' ta hoit ya. I'se promise."
"P-please don't come near me."
Baffled, "I won't hoit ya, if anyt'ing I'se is heah ta help youse. What's your name?" holding out his hand to help her up.
Eyeing him suspiciously, she took his hand, "A-Anne." She hiccupped.
"My name's Soccah." Then noticing the basket on the ground by Anne's feet, "Uh, do you need a place to stay?"
She nodded, tears beginning to flow again.
"Well, you could stay at the lodgin' house. I'm shoah Spot won't mind." At the confused look on her face he added, "Spot's da leadah of da Brooklyn Newsies."
"Oh." She whispered.
"So, would youse like ta stay dere wit' some of da goil newsies?"
"Okay." She replied quietly. 'I've got nowhere else to go." She thought. "Well, follow me then." Picking up the basket despite the girl's protests.
Upon their arrival at the Lodging House, Soccer realized that a lot more than 'some of da boys' had gone to Manhattan, even the two newsgirls were gone, Spot's sister, Lindi, and his girlfriend, Manders.
"Um, well it looks like I'm goin' ta be all of your company tonight." Soccer told her ruefully.
"You mean no one is here." Anne gasped, suddenly afraid of what might happen with just this young man there.
"Yeah, but don't worry, you'll be safe." He assured her, seeing the fear reappear in Anne's dark brown eyes. "I promise."
"Heah's wheah da goils sleep. It's not as big as da boys bunkroom, but you're guaranteed dat not one guy will barge in on you without giving you sufficient warning, and if one does he'll have ta deal wit' me." Soccer said, setting her basket down on an empty bed. "I'll be in da main room if you want some company."
"Okay." Anne replied quietly. Once Soccer left, she laid down on her bed and wondered what her new roommates were like. She eventually dozed off into a fitful sleep at least until the nightmare.
Soccer had fallen asleep reading a book when he was startled by someone screaming. He got up and knocked on the door of the girls' bunkroom, only to receive no answer. So he opened the door and found Anne thrashing in her sleep screaming "Stop! I'm sorry! Please leave me alone!"
"Anne, wake up. It's just a nightmare." When she didn't wake up, Soccer gently lifted her up into a sitting position lightly shook her awake. "Anne, you're okay. It's jus' me, Soccah." He said stroking her hair, as she buried her head in his chest, whimpering.
When she realized that she was in his arms she tried to move away, but to no avail, he wasn't letting her go till he knew for sure she was alright. People don't normally start screaming during their sleep. "Go away." Anne cried weakly.
"Are you okay? I'm not letting you go until I'm shoah youse is okay."
Trembling, "P-please go. I'm fine." Trying hard to convince him she was okay.
Seeing her tears and feeling her body tremble in his arms, Soccer let her go. "Okay. But I just want youse ta know dat I'm just outside an' if ya need me I'll be neah. Remembah, I promised I won't hoit ya and I promise youse now dat I will as safe as I possibly can. Promise me dat if ya need anyt'ing you'll tell me." He said as he wrapped a spare blanket around her shoulders.
"I-I promise." Anne replied, as he got up to leave.
"Good. I hope you'll be able to sleep the rest of the night."
'Me too.' She thought knowing that she wouldn't just like all the other times.
Anne tried to go to sleep, but couldn't. She still could feel Mr. Kilbeckk's lips kissing her roughly, and his hands ripping the buttons of her dress open. Instead of sleeping she read the 23rd Psalm in her little Bible, her most treasured possession. The 23rd Psalm always calmed her down when her life was in utter turmoil.
The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake. Yea, though I walk though the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me, thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil, my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.
She thought back to her guardian angel in disguise, and thanked God for him. He didn't seem to want anything for helping her, just to know that she was okay. He seemed a bit protective over someone who he just met, but he didn't seem to be the type of person or Mr. Kilbreckk were. So she decided that it couldn't hurt to trust him. He was the only person who had shown her any kindness in a very, very long time.
'I wondah what caused her ta end up in an alley.' Soccer pondered sitting in the chair nearest the girls' bunkroom. He wasn't very sure he wanted to know. 'Well, maybe in a couple o' days, I'se can ask her.'
After an hour or so, Soccer dozed off, only to be awakened thirty minutes later by a rather rowdy bunch of Brooklyn newsies.
"Didja see Jack's face when he lost da last one..."
"Hey, fellas." Soccer shouted, "pipe down. Dere's a goil tryin' ta sleep in dere." Jerking his thumb at the door.
"I thought I said no goilfriends unless dey're newsies, Soccah." Spot whispered sarcastically, receiving a few snickers from the newsies.
"I'se would nevah do dat, Spot Conlon, and well youse know dat!" Soccer said angrily, offended by his friends insinuation.
"Whatevah. Anyways everyone ta bed we'se is still sellin' tomorrah." This was met with a chorus of groans and do we have ta's.
"Spot!" Lindi whined, "Why do we have ta sell tomorrah?"
"Because my deah sistah, we have ta sell tomorrah." Spot smirked at his twin.
"Hey, Manders, when youse go in dere, will you check on Anne for me, and tell me how she is?"
"Umm, shoah."
"T'anks"
When Manders returned, "She's sleepin' like a baby."
"Good. She had a nightmare oilier. So I'se is glad she's sleepin' peacefully." Soccer explained, relieved she had been able to fall asleep.
"I see. Wheah did youse find her?"
"Huddled in a corner of an alley cryin' her eyes out."
Chapter 1: A Guardian Angel in Disguise
The loud crash of dishes hitting the floor and breaking into a thousand pieces echoed throughout the house, followed closely by the angry stomping of Mrs. Conoga.
"Why did you drop those dishes?" Mrs. Conoga screamed shrilly, her overly plump face purple with rage.
"I-I-I didn't m-mean to, ma'am." Anne, the woman's orphaned niece, replied.
"That's the same excuse you give me every time something goes wrong. I'm just going to have to tell your uncle, now won't I?" an evil gleam in the woman's eyes.
"N-no, please, ma'am. I'll pick it up and I'll work to replace the dishes that fell." The girl pleaded, her face turning as pale as a sheet at the thought of what punishment Mr. Conoga would come up with.
"That simply will not work this time. You would think that after all we've done for you since you parents died you would at least return the favor." Mrs. Conoga stated, turning around to find her husband. "Harold, oh, Harold." She called out in a sinisterly sweet voice.
"Yes, dear."
"I need to speak to you."
3 hours later
"Now I hope you have learned you lesson from Mr. Kilbeckk, Anne." Mr. Conoga sneered at the whimpering girl on the floor of a very shabby room.
"Y-yes, s-sir." Anne stammered, hoping he would take the drunk away.
"Good, now I want you to get cleaned up, in order to go to the market to get some bread." Mr. Conoga said showing Mr. Kilbeckk out.
Once Mr. Conoga shut the door to her room, Anne began to wash herself carefully with the water in the basin in her room not wanting to touch her new bruises from her encounter with Mr. Kilbeckk. When she finally got dressed, she grabbed a basket and put all of her meager belongings in it and put a cloth on top. She had made up her mind, she was going to run away and never come back.
At the Brooklyn Bridge
"Hey, Soccah." Spot shouted.
"Whadda ya want, Spot?" the newsboy replied.
"Me an' some o' da boys are goin' ta Manhattan, did youse want ta come?"
"Nah, I'se got some t'ings ta do." Soccer answered regretfully.
"Ok."
After Soccer finished selling the evening edition, he walked the streets of Brooklyn enjoying the cool night air. Then while he was passing an alley, he heard a girl weeping. He went into the alley in search of who was doing the crying. Soccer found a girl of about 17, sitting in the corner hugging her knees to her chest with her head resting on her knees.
Soccer cleared his throat, causing her head to jerk up, "Is dere anyt'ing wrong, miss?" noting the look of fear in her eyes as he took a step closer, "I'm not goin' ta hoit ya. I'se promise."
"P-please don't come near me."
Baffled, "I won't hoit ya, if anyt'ing I'se is heah ta help youse. What's your name?" holding out his hand to help her up.
Eyeing him suspiciously, she took his hand, "A-Anne." She hiccupped.
"My name's Soccah." Then noticing the basket on the ground by Anne's feet, "Uh, do you need a place to stay?"
She nodded, tears beginning to flow again.
"Well, you could stay at the lodgin' house. I'm shoah Spot won't mind." At the confused look on her face he added, "Spot's da leadah of da Brooklyn Newsies."
"Oh." She whispered.
"So, would youse like ta stay dere wit' some of da goil newsies?"
"Okay." She replied quietly. 'I've got nowhere else to go." She thought. "Well, follow me then." Picking up the basket despite the girl's protests.
Upon their arrival at the Lodging House, Soccer realized that a lot more than 'some of da boys' had gone to Manhattan, even the two newsgirls were gone, Spot's sister, Lindi, and his girlfriend, Manders.
"Um, well it looks like I'm goin' ta be all of your company tonight." Soccer told her ruefully.
"You mean no one is here." Anne gasped, suddenly afraid of what might happen with just this young man there.
"Yeah, but don't worry, you'll be safe." He assured her, seeing the fear reappear in Anne's dark brown eyes. "I promise."
"Heah's wheah da goils sleep. It's not as big as da boys bunkroom, but you're guaranteed dat not one guy will barge in on you without giving you sufficient warning, and if one does he'll have ta deal wit' me." Soccer said, setting her basket down on an empty bed. "I'll be in da main room if you want some company."
"Okay." Anne replied quietly. Once Soccer left, she laid down on her bed and wondered what her new roommates were like. She eventually dozed off into a fitful sleep at least until the nightmare.
Soccer had fallen asleep reading a book when he was startled by someone screaming. He got up and knocked on the door of the girls' bunkroom, only to receive no answer. So he opened the door and found Anne thrashing in her sleep screaming "Stop! I'm sorry! Please leave me alone!"
"Anne, wake up. It's just a nightmare." When she didn't wake up, Soccer gently lifted her up into a sitting position lightly shook her awake. "Anne, you're okay. It's jus' me, Soccah." He said stroking her hair, as she buried her head in his chest, whimpering.
When she realized that she was in his arms she tried to move away, but to no avail, he wasn't letting her go till he knew for sure she was alright. People don't normally start screaming during their sleep. "Go away." Anne cried weakly.
"Are you okay? I'm not letting you go until I'm shoah youse is okay."
Trembling, "P-please go. I'm fine." Trying hard to convince him she was okay.
Seeing her tears and feeling her body tremble in his arms, Soccer let her go. "Okay. But I just want youse ta know dat I'm just outside an' if ya need me I'll be neah. Remembah, I promised I won't hoit ya and I promise youse now dat I will as safe as I possibly can. Promise me dat if ya need anyt'ing you'll tell me." He said as he wrapped a spare blanket around her shoulders.
"I-I promise." Anne replied, as he got up to leave.
"Good. I hope you'll be able to sleep the rest of the night."
'Me too.' She thought knowing that she wouldn't just like all the other times.
Anne tried to go to sleep, but couldn't. She still could feel Mr. Kilbeckk's lips kissing her roughly, and his hands ripping the buttons of her dress open. Instead of sleeping she read the 23rd Psalm in her little Bible, her most treasured possession. The 23rd Psalm always calmed her down when her life was in utter turmoil.
The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake. Yea, though I walk though the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me, thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil, my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.
She thought back to her guardian angel in disguise, and thanked God for him. He didn't seem to want anything for helping her, just to know that she was okay. He seemed a bit protective over someone who he just met, but he didn't seem to be the type of person or Mr. Kilbreckk were. So she decided that it couldn't hurt to trust him. He was the only person who had shown her any kindness in a very, very long time.
'I wondah what caused her ta end up in an alley.' Soccer pondered sitting in the chair nearest the girls' bunkroom. He wasn't very sure he wanted to know. 'Well, maybe in a couple o' days, I'se can ask her.'
After an hour or so, Soccer dozed off, only to be awakened thirty minutes later by a rather rowdy bunch of Brooklyn newsies.
"Didja see Jack's face when he lost da last one..."
"Hey, fellas." Soccer shouted, "pipe down. Dere's a goil tryin' ta sleep in dere." Jerking his thumb at the door.
"I thought I said no goilfriends unless dey're newsies, Soccah." Spot whispered sarcastically, receiving a few snickers from the newsies.
"I'se would nevah do dat, Spot Conlon, and well youse know dat!" Soccer said angrily, offended by his friends insinuation.
"Whatevah. Anyways everyone ta bed we'se is still sellin' tomorrah." This was met with a chorus of groans and do we have ta's.
"Spot!" Lindi whined, "Why do we have ta sell tomorrah?"
"Because my deah sistah, we have ta sell tomorrah." Spot smirked at his twin.
"Hey, Manders, when youse go in dere, will you check on Anne for me, and tell me how she is?"
"Umm, shoah."
"T'anks"
When Manders returned, "She's sleepin' like a baby."
"Good. She had a nightmare oilier. So I'se is glad she's sleepin' peacefully." Soccer explained, relieved she had been able to fall asleep.
"I see. Wheah did youse find her?"
"Huddled in a corner of an alley cryin' her eyes out."