Disclaimer: I don't own Newsies or Jake, but I guess I own Annie and her father. I rather like Annie as a character, too. I might use her in different stories, if I ever get around to it…

I've said it before, but I'll say it again. The inspiration for this story was partly from Alone, by Stretch1. And the crickets outside my window. But I don't have to credit the crickets.

This chapter's for Tears in a Bottle, who leaves such nice reviews for me. You're a doll.

It may surprise you that the thing I miss the most about my childhood isn't my family. Not my bossy, mothering older sister. Not my best friend and older brother. Not even my hero: my father.

I miss my Annie the most.

I call her mine to this day, yet I know she'd be terribly opposed to the term. Even seven years ago, when I last saw her, she had hated it, though I only used it teasingly.

Annie was our closest neighbor at half a mile away. Her daddy had the same occupation as most folks in the area, including my father: cotton farmer. But he was very unlike my father, who was skinny and stuttering. Annie's father was large and round, with a loud voice and an even louder laugh. The two of them got along famously, and so did the two of us.

I had known Annie for as long as I could remember. She was only six months older than me, but she never let me forget it. That girl had the strongest and most passionate personality I've ever come across, and that's saying something. She stood up to everybody, most often my bigger older brother, with no fear whatsoever. I never once saw her lose a shouting match. She was, without a doubt, her father's daughter.

With the same loud laugh as her father and her confident and overpowering attitude, she didn't match her appearance in the least bit. She was tall for a girl, but thin to the point of looking frail. Her hair was a dull dark blonde, and never stayed flat, much preferring to stick up like a madwoman's hairstyle. She had pale skin and a perpetual sunburn from our time spent playing outdoors. Her eyes I remember clearly as being big and brown as dirt. When she got older, Annie decided that she hated the way she looked, and told me so often. I thought she was the prettiest thing I'd ever seen, and I told her so once. That's how I got my first kiss.

When we were younger, Annie (having no siblings of her own) tagged along after Andrew and I, until her nagging and pushy personality eventually forced us to accept her as "one of us". In the months before I left, I had grown closer to her, treasuring her company even more than Andrew's. Probably because she was a girl and not related to me.

I would even go as far as to call her my girlfriend. She never technically accepted the role, but we acted like courting teenagers, so that's what we were.

She was the only girl I ever loved, and the only girl I've ever confessed love to. I told her on the day I left. In fact, she was the only one I said goodbye to.

She was real angry when I first told her I was leaving. Yelled like I've never heard her yell before, about me leaving her behind. I knew she wanted to come, but I didn't think New York City was the place for a lady. Now I know better. If any lady belonged there, she was the one. A girl like that could make it anywhere.

I walked away after saying goodbye with Annie still yelling at my back. All of a sudden she quieted and said in a sad, disbelieving voice, "You're really leaving, then?" I never heard her sound that disappointed.

I turned around and told her, "You know I love you, right?"

"Yeah." She said. And that's the last I've heard from her.

Her laugh, the exact same as her father's, haunts me to this day.

A/N: Thanks for the reviews, all! You don't even realize how much I appreciate them.