Solemnly, Eleanor inched into the family room, genuinely frightened. Sat on the torn, dusty couch was a beefy, large man. A stern, hard look was chiseled onto his calloused face.

"Sit down Eleanor." He growled. "Do you know why you are here?"

Whimpering, Eleanor sat on the wicker chair across from the couch and hung her head. She knew why she was there, and she knew what was coming.

"I'm disappointed in you, Ellie." He said sweetly. Eleanor stood up slowly and tried to walk away.

"Please! I promise I'll do better next time Robert! Please!!" Eleanor cried desperately, raising her arms defensively. "Ple.."

A blow to the delicate face of the sixteen year old broke her words. Robert began to beat her senseless. Quietly counting the minutes away, Eleanor patiently waited for him to subside. Ever since Luanne died three years ago, this had become a regular habit. Scars etched her arms, bruises covered her legs.

After the long round of hitting her had ended, Robert stalked off to a nearby hallway. Cautiously waiting for him to disappear, Eleanor then burst into silent tears, shoulders heaving. I wish… I wish I could just go back. She thought.

Promptly after she began her tears, heavy footsteps approached her. Robert came in the room, casually swinging a baseball bat against the palm of his meaty hand. An evil grin stretched across his grisly face.

"No! Please! I'm sorry, I won't do it again!! I'm sorry!" Eleanor screamed, desperately wishing she were somewhere else, anywhere else. She had to escape. Fast. Last time Robert brought out the bat, she had been hit over the head multiple times until she passed out, and he then proceeded to brutally kick her until he broke three ribs, placing her in critical condition. Taken to the hospital with the story that she fell down three flights of stairs, she had a long and tearful recovery.

Desperately, she scanned the room for any possible escapes, backing into the splintered wall, heavy with the marks of previous beatings, as Robert came closer. Her heart raced.

Realization and relief flooded over her as she touched the wall. A big window was behind her. Discreetly, she inched closer, gripping the window sill. All she had to do was…

Robert swung the bat with enormous force of a professional league baseball player, aiming right at her bruised head. Eleanor ducked her head swiftly. Glass shattered around her, giving her a deep gash in her head. As fast as the bat had come, Eleanor heaved herself out of the shattered window.

Eleanor Bennett ran for her life.


Eleanor ran as fast as her long legs could carry. Rain pelted her skin, soaking her dress, making it unbearably heavy. Still, she refused to slow. Her auburn hair was plastered to her face and neck, the gash in her head running down her face, into the neck of her dress.

She stopped for a moment, looking around. Not recognizing where she was she burst into tears. Blending perfectly with the rain, no body stopped to help her. People bustled past, not wanting get wet. She got up and stopped crying, looked around, and bolted off into a road that looked somewhat familiar. If she was correct, it would lead her to the Brooklyn Dockyard. Maybe there was an Inn she could stay at.

She soon lost track of time. All she could do was run. Run away from her past, her mistakes. The torture. To start over. To hide. She ran until she could run no more. She collapsed in tears and promptly cried herself to sleep, the rhythmic pulse of waves soothing her rattled mind.


"What the hell?"

"Who is that?"

"Is she dead!?"

"Someone go get Spot!"

The newsboys of Brooklyn crowded around a limp body on the docks. Ratty auburn hair crowned her beat up face. Blood oozed from a deep gash on her forehead. A torn and stained blue dress surrounded her. Her chest rose so slightly, you could hardly tell she was breathing.

"Move it! What's this I hear about a co…" the king of Brooklyn stopped mid-sentence.

"Ellie?"


The first thing to penetrate Eleanor's awareness was the brightness pounding down on her eyelids through a window, jabbing at her like little needles. She groaned and rolled over to get away from it, and instantly regretted it. Waves of hammering pain exploded inside her skull. Pressing the heels of her hands hard against her temples to suppress the waves of pain, she pulled herself up into a sitting position. She opened her eyes slowly, and then blinked in bewilderment.

Looking around her, she noticed she was on a large bed. A burning kerosene lamp sat atop a simple wooden desk. Flowered wallpaper covered the walls, attempting to peel away from its home. A cracked mirror inhabited the wall next to her.

When she saw her appearance she groaned. Her auburn hair, the only part of her she thought pretty, was in a big tangle, with a few parts where someone had clearly attempted to brush it. A deep gash in her forehead had been bandaged, and was no longer bleeding. Her cheek had a splotch of dirt on it

"Where am I?" she whispered to herself.

Suddenly, a door swung open, issuing a scream from Eleanor. A tall brunette boy with big glasses walked in, instantly dropping a bowl with a wet rag in it, causing it to chip. He quickly picked it up, and set it on the desk.

"You're awake! The one moment I walk away from you…" he jabbered.

"And who are you?" Eleanor asked harshly, quickly covering herself with the dirty white sheets that surrounded her.

"Oh! 'Scuse me, Miss. I'm Needle. I been taking care of you since we found you out on our docks! Now if you excuse me, I needs be telling Spot your woke." And as quickly as he'd come, Needle was gone.

"Spot?" she whispered. She searched her mind for possibilities on where she was. She gasped. "It couldn't be…"

The door slammed open again. In walked Spot Conlon. She gasped. He's grown up, she thought to herself. The once small and awkward boy and grown into a tall and handsome teenager. Intense baby blue eyes seared into her mind. Muscled arms folded tightly across his chest.

"Ellie? What the hell you doing passed out on my docks?" he said sternly.

"Was I? I… wasn't aware. Where you been, Sean?" she said softly.

"They calls me Spot now." He said even quieter.


March 12, 1893

Eleanor ran down the hallway of the St. Martin's Orphanage as fast as her little legs could carry her. Her dirty smock trailed behind her. Close behind her was a short little boy with messy blond hair.

"Can't catch me, Spot!" she cried behind her.

"If I do, will you marry me, Ellie?" the little boy yelled.

Eleanor stopped in her tracks, throwing the boy off balance, sending him crashing into the wall. Eleanor laughed.

"Hmm... I think so!!" she said. The boy stood up slowly, examining if he had been damaged at all. As soon as he was balanced, the boy pounced on Eleanor.

Giggling, Eleanor hugged him tightly. "So tomorrow then? Tomorrow we can get married?" she said.

"Uh huh!" the boy giggled.

"Eleanor! Come here, there is someone to see you!" yelled an unseen female.

"Um, I…. I'm coming!" she said back. She smiled weakly at the boy and scampered off into a room.

Sitting there were a large man, and a petite and very pretty woman. The man smiled kindly at her. Headmaster Grace stared back at her. The look on her face was stern.

"Sit down, Eleanor." She said. "This is Mr. and Mrs. Banks. They are interested in adopting you. Isn't that swell?"

Eleanor gulped. "Well… you see, I have something really important to do here. I can't leave." She said quietly.

"I believe that you can. I will make sure everything works out while your gone, Eleanor" Headmaster Grace said through her teeth. She shot a quick, strained smile at the couple. The couple smiled.

"We would love to have you join our family, Eleanor." The woman said.

"Um… can it be on Wednesday?" Eleanor said.

Headmaster Grace shook her head. "No. It must be today." She picked up a pile of papers and shoved them at Mr. and Mrs. Banks. "Here is the paperwork. You can take her now."

Eleanor was taken away that day, by Robert and Luanne Banks, against the girls will. The workers at the orphanage report that the girl was beside herself, claiming that she had a very important thing to do the next day. Despite her screaming, the girl was sent off, never to be heard of again.