Author note: Thank you for my many, many reviews – you people rock! And just because you rock I'm going to bake you a cake. A good cake, with a lot of sugary goodness on top, and in the middle, and everywhere! So, while you eat your sugary cake, enjoy this chapter and don't forget to review!

I felt like I was flying – literally. I opened my eyes slightly, but not enough to see anything. There was an odd aroma in the air – it smelt a little like cigar smoke and soap, and for some reason I found it refreshing.

"Is she dead?" I heard someone say.

"No, she isn't dead you idiot!" a familiar voice said.

I groaned, and opened my eyes fully, only to find five awkward looking boys surrounding my bed, one being very familiar.

I looked at them weirdly, raising my eyebrows in the process.

"How ya feelin, Anomie?" Blade asked.

"Confused," I said dully sitting up in a rather comfortable bed. "Where am I?"

"Newsboys Lodging House," Blade said, grinning.

"And who are they?" I asked, looking at the other boys.

"Oh, dis is Skips, Ducky, Rocky, and Patch," Blade said, pointing off each boy.

I blinked at the odd names given to the odd looking boys, and shrugged it off. What happened? All I could remember was seeing Daniel being beat up over and over again, non-stop. I remembered being stabbed with some kind of needle that made me feel awkward, and now...now I couldn't feel my legs!

I tried moving them, but did not succeed.

"You okay, Anomie?" Blade asked, cocking an eyebrow at the horror written on my face.

"What're you bums doin in heah?" a calm, yet dangerous voice asked.

I brought my eyes to the doorway, and stared at a lying, conniving bastard.

"Hey Spot, yer friends awake," the blonde boy – Ducky? – pointed out.

"I ain't blind, kid, I can see dat," Spot said, making the younger boy look away in fear. "Now get lost ya scabs."

The boys obeyed their leader and walked towards the door. Spot gave them a stern look, which sent Ducky off running. As soon as all the boys were gone, Spot closed the door and walked towards the bunk.

I was impressed with the room, actually. There were rows and rows of bunks lined up, but they were poorly made. Some sheets were ripped off halfway, and some of the pillows were losing their 'fluff'.

Spot stood beside the bunk, looking down at me with a look I couldn't describe.

"Wanna explain yerself," he suddenly said, sitting on the bunk next to the one I was in.

"Explain what?" I asked darkly, sending him a look of hatred.

"Why you were so drunk," Spot said like it was obvious.

"Drunk?" I asked, giving him an odd yet amused look.

"Yeah, ya know when someone drinks so much dey lose their common sense and parading around like an idiot," Spot explained.

"I don't drink," I spat angrily. "And besides, I don't have any reasons to drink. Other than the fact that I'm wasting my time hanging around a jerk."

"Fine, if ya don't want my help den jus' leave," he said, waving his hand towards the door. "See if I care."

I blinked a few times, and looked down. "I can't," I said, ashamed that I was admitting something to him.

Spot chuckled and threw his hat aside. "Ya see, no goil can resist me," he said.

I shot my head up instantly and sent him a deadly glare. "I can't leave because I can't move my legs, genius!" I snapped. "And besides, any girl who falls for you is a fool!"

Spot furrowed his eyebrows. "I guess yer a fool den," he said. "Now why can't ya move yer legs?"

I narrowed my eyes angrily and looked him in the eyes. "I'd drop dead before I ever fall for you, Conlon. You can bet on that," I told him.

"Well sweetheart, welcome ta heaven."

If only I could move my legs I would've attacked him – physically, not sexually.

"Can you stop talking about yourself for at least a few minutes?" I hissed. "You have the oddest obsession with yourself, and its driving me crazy!"

"Hey, yer da one who won't leave," Spot shrugged.

"Because my legs are paralyzed!" I groaned angrily, and shook my head. "You know what, just forget it. If you can keep your hands off a girl for just ten minutes and go fetch Stephen, I'd be satisfied."

"You still don't believe me?" Spot asked, rolling his eyes.

"Why should I? And to add to that, why should I care? Sleep with any girl you want, as long as you stay away from me," I said.

"Hey, I already told you, I had a meeting with 'er!" Spot exclaimed.

"I don't want details," I said, glaring daggers at him.

Spot smirked and shook his head. "Yer stubborn, Anomie, jus' too damn stubborn."

"Why thank you for that lovely compliment…Now go get Stephen!"

"No," Spot said gradually.

"You're an ass, you know that? A real ass," I told him.

Spot shrugged lazily and ran his fingers through his hair. "Well darlin, you gotta find a way outta dat bed, cause I need somewhere ta sleep tonight," he said, rising from the other bunk.

"This is your bed?" I nearly screamed.

"Did I stutter?"

I would've jumped up in disgust, but my legs were still paralyzed.

"Catch ya latah, sweetheart," Spot said, walking out of the room, pulling his cap onto his head.

I groaned loudly and stared at the bunks along the other side of the wall. How dare he just leave me here! Oh, just wait until I can walk again, that boy is going to die.

I sat there for hours and hours, just staring at the bottom of the bunk above Spot's. How did he suddenly get the upper hand? He left me in a room on my own, and just…well…left.

It sucked not being able to walk. It was very…depressing. Just like the sweet memories of my mother…

"Mommy, can I have this one?" I asked, holding up a crisp, deep brown cookie.

"Yes you can," my mother said, planting a sweet and loving kiss upon my head.

I giggled and bit into the cookie, feeling the warm and delicious taste melt in my mouth. Oh how I adored Sunday baking at my grandpa's bakery. Nothing beat spending the afternoon in the bakery, baking endless amounts of cookies with mother and Grandpa Joe.

I lived in a country-like town somewhere in Georgia. The townsfolk had the strangest accents – true southerners my mother called them. Some of the most stubborn people known to man, yet, they really liked coming to Grandpa Joe's bakery.

The front door opened, and I peaked over the counter to get a good look at a man who wore a dark brown cowboy hat. I stared in awe at the hat, of its beauty and size.

"What can I do for you?" Grandpa Joe asked.

I looked up at my gray-haired grandfather and grinned to myself. He had a funny accent, too.

"How 'bout some of those delicious Sunday cookies your lovely daughter always makes," the man said, sounding like a real cowboy.

"Well I don't know about being lovely, but I'm positive that you'll find these to your liking," mother said, walking in from the back, carrying a bag of cookies to the man.

I was confused when I saw the look in my mother's eyes when the cowboy man walked into the bakery. She always blushed and pulled at her clothes, smiling to herself.

"Heya kid," the cowboy said, rubbing my head.

I laughed and hid behind Grandpa Joe's leg, peaking around to see if the man had left yet. He merely chuckled and paid for the cookies.

"I'll see ya 'round, Mrs. Carter," he said, tipping his hat while walking out the door.

The door opened and I jumped out of my memory, and watched cautiously as a certain jackass walked in.

"Still ain't left yet, eh?" Spot said, pulling down his suspenders.

He threw his cap down on my – his – bed, and sat down by my feet. He bent over and untied his boots, pulling them off and then pushing them aside.

"What are you doing?" I asked, giving him an odd look.

"I'm 'bout ta wash up," he said as if it didn't really matter he was undressing in front of a girl.

"Do it in the washroom!" I demanded.

"Well, where else would you wash up?" Spot asked, unbuttoning his shirt.

"No, I mean get undressed in the washroom, Einstein!"

"Well, if you'd of left like I told you too-"

"Oh stop it! How in the hell am I supposed to leave, huh?" I asked.

Spot shrugged. "Beats me," he said. "But den again, dat ain't my problem."

He walked into a door to my right, which I assumed was the washroom.

I sighed and beat my head against the wall. "Someone just kill me!" I pleaded.

"Yer gonna get a headache!" I heard Spot shout from the washroom.

"You are a headache!" I shouted back.

This was going to be a long day…or night, whichever suits me.

Next Chapter: Hasn't been thought up yet, so let's all be surprised. It may have to do with Anomie's legs working again. Who knows?

Author note: Okay, this wasn't very long, but oh well.