A/N
Me: WARREN STOP!!
Warren: Blink?
Blink: Yes, stop threating her with fire. She's posting right now.
Warren: I was having so much fun too...
Me: If you're good, I'll write you a story, just leave me alone!!
Warren: Fine.
Blink: (hugs me) Sorry for the torture. It's just that you haven't updated in forever!!
Me: I know, I'm sorry!! Marching Band, it takes over your life.
Blink: Oooookkkkkaaayyyy...
Me: So, to make it up to you all, here is two (short) chapters posted as one (big) one!
Blink: YAY!!
Me: PS- I don't own Newsies or Sky High/ Warren. And... I found the line button. You shall have lots and lots of lines now...

I saw faces swimming in front of mine. The faces of Mush, Rain, Race, Nevada, Jack, Les, Skittery and Leah all wavered in and out of view. I even thought I saw Spot, but I must've been dreaming about that one. Spot would never leave his boys for any reason so trivial as an acquaintance being sick. They were speaking to me, but I couldn't quite hear them. It was like I was floating just under the surface of a slightly cloudy lake. It was too hard to focus, so I decided to slip further under, into the calm blackness of the deep recesses of my mind.

"She's waking up!" "Race, back up, le' 'er breathe!" "Come on hunny, calm down!" I sat up and coughed. "Bitty!" Les yelled, running over and hugging me. My laughter turned into a cough as I hugged him back. Les backed off to let me catch my breath. Nevada shooed him out of the room, and glared at Racetrack until he followed Les outside. After the boys were gone, she came over and gave me a hug, saying, "I'm so glad yer awlright!" "Yeah, me too!" I laughed. "Wha' happened? An' where's Davey?" Her face fell suddenly. "Two Bits…" she started. The events up until whatever happened came crashing down on me. I remembered David, singing, dying in my arms. "How long?" I whispered. "You got sick da same day David… well, you know. We thinks dat it was from bein' around 'im while he was sick," she said. "Me mudder died 'a da same ting. I don' tink it was dat," I whispered. "Kissing 'im probly didn' help much," she said with a smile. I nodded, tears welling in my eyes.

"You know, da boys were all worried 'bout chu. Spot even came down ta see youse," she said, trying to change the subject. Letting the conversation flow away from the pain I said, "Spotty came ta see me?" She nodded, "Youse got dem all wrapped round your little finger. Dey all love youse like dere favorite little sister." "Really…? Guess I was seein' 'does people den," I mused sadly.

We sat in silence for several minutes before I asked, "When is da funeral?" "Tomorrow" Nevada answered quietly. She stood up and left, knowing that I needed some space to think. As soon as she was gone I began to sob. I cried and cried, but there was no David to comfort me, no Mush to tell me that everything would be all right. No one was there for me. I was alone in the world.

The rain created a curtain between the rest of the world and me. The line between reality and fantasy was as blurred as the faces gathered at the graveside. The only thing that seemed real was the pine box being lowered into the hole in the ground. I closed my eyes and could see David lying in the coffin, my hat on his head, looking like he was just sleeping, about to wake up at any moment. The rabbi finished saying the prayer and people began to put dirt on the casket. Almost every newsie in New York was there because, even if the didn't know David personally, he had a wide reaching affect on every newsie in the state. After the newsies put dirt on the casket, people from the school David never got to go back to went next. The adults he was friends with went next- people like Denton and Medda. Next went his family. Finally it was my turn. There was no more dirt to put on the grave. I took the day's paper and placed it gently on the top of the grave. David's face smiled up at me from the front page, laughter twinkling in his eyes. There was an article all about him and the work he did to help the strike, and how he was the first of the strike leaders to die. A tear ran down my nose and landed on his face, making the ink run, destroying the smiling face. I realized that it just goes to show how easy it is for the things you love to disappear. The people behind me began to wander away in small sad groups as I knelt down on top of the grave. The headstone was simple, reading his name and Carpe Diem, his personal motto. Tear after tear fell down my face onto the paper as I remembered everything about the time we had together. My tears just kept falling. Someone came up behind me, but I ignored him. He helped me stand up, and pulled me into a hug. I cried into his shoulder as he rubbed my back.

"It'll be awlright," the rough voice of Spot whispered in my ear. "It's no' possible," I whispered back. "Yes it is. A posse ad esse (1)," he murmured. I shook my head, disbelieving. He sighed and grabbed my hand, pulling me back towards the Lodging House, even though all I wanted to do was curl up on the grave I had just left and die.

A/N

Hola! Sorry if this chapter is a little weird. I just needed to get something out. Hope you liked it.
David: I'm really dead now.
Me: Kinda, yeah.
David: Kinda?
Me: Yep! See, you write this letter, and ...
David: And...
Me: And I can't tell you! But in your reviews encourage my good friend Edwin, who is an actual teenage boy who can write a good letter from the grave. Shoot, I wasn't supposed to say that!
David: AHA! I'm not gone totally!
Me: Nope, not yet. Now review or you won't get another chappie or a letter from a better writer than me!
David: REVIEW NOW!! I DON'T WANNA BE DEAD!!

(1) A posse ad esse- Latin for from possibility to reality. Remember this phrase, it will come into play later!! (hint, hint…)