Disclaimer: I don't own Jake, or Newsies. I did make up Jake's family, though. So I guess his mother, father, Rebecca, and Andrew are mine. I'll mention again that I got some of my inspiration (Jake being from the South) from Stretch1 in Alone.

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I never knew my mother. People always told me she was beautiful, with long black hair, sparking blue eyes, and a smile like no other. She died from complications after my birth. I never was as sad as the rest of my family about her passing because… well, I never knew her. However, I've always had (and always expect to have) a pang of guilt whenever the thought of her crosses my mind.

I can only assume that much of that comes from my siblings. Rebecca (never Becky or Becca) was seven years my elder and Andrew (not Drew or Andy) was one year older than me. Rebecca had known our mother the best, having spent the most years with her, and had sometimes looked down on me, almost blaming me for her death. She resented living a life with no mother.

Andrew hadn't known her as well, so he wasn't as troubled about having to grow up without her care, but he still saved a biting remark about the fact that she died because of me whenever I upset him.

Now don't get the wrong idea about Rebecca and Andrew- they were wonderful people, as good as they come, and I've always looked up to both of them. Rebecca, always the mature one, was almost a mother figure to me as I was growing up. She was the one that made sure Andrew and I went to school and got something of an education. And in doing so, learned to write.

Andrew and I were inseparable for our whole childhood, running our imaginations wild with rowdy games, and giving everyone, including our exasperated teacher, a hard time. "Partners in crime", my father would call us.

My father. Well, where all would say my mother was exceptional in her beauty and charm, they wouldn't hesitate to say that my father was not. He seemed average in every way possible, with a forgettable face, small income, and sometimes an embarrassing stutter. I still say he was the best man I've ever known. Never in the thirteen years that I knew him did he quit at anything. His family was his passion, and he made sure to raise all of us right, with manners, confidence, and love. I'm proud to say that I was named after him, although more recently I've taken on Jake to his Jacob (the only one in my family with a nickname).

I miss my father terribly. He died the day I left. Or rather, I left the day he died. Rebecca had been married to a man much like our father two years before, and no longer lived with us. Andrew was moving to live with a distant uncle, and was to inherit the farm at the age of eighteen. I was meant to go with him.

Instead I took a train to New York City, where I had decided there were bigger and better things to do. I didn't say goodbye to either of my siblings, and to this day, seven years later, haven't contacted them. I was thirteen years old and stupid, and I didn't realize at the time how much I was leaving behind.

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A/N: Thanks to all that reviewed the last chapter. Go see your name in my profile, if you want a shoutout.