Still Don't Own the Newsies
Still Don't Own the Newsies.
Chapter Two – Welcome Paige
Hard surface. Cold. Bright Light. Momma? I wanna go home! All thoughts of 8 year old Paige went spinning in her head. Fire. Pappa? Momma! The building was quite large and scared the little girl. She could only remember last night, or so what she thought was last night…
"Paige darling can you set the table?" asked a pretty blonde. Her apron was stained and she had the brightest green eyes.
"Yes Momma, what are we having?" replied a young girl looking just like her mother, except her eyes has a mix of blue in with them.
"Well your father was supposed to be home, but I guess me and you will have some beef stew"
"Is he coming home? And I don't like that." Paige replied while she made a face at her mom. She was setting the small table for dinner and unsure if she should put another bowl down for her father.
"Well I do hope so, and don't make that face young lady you know better!" her mother said with a stern look. After awhile the two ate and soon cleaned up the kitchen and Mrs. McClare sent Paige to bed with a kiss.
"DON'T YOU DARE TOUCH HER!" With a sudden scare the little blonde girl woke up. Next thing she knew her father had her ripped out of bed and was sending her the most hateful expression she had ever seen.
"Get up you little runt and say goodbye to your mother!" Her father said this while he pushed her out her bedroom door. He continued to drag her through their small apartment until he reached the kitchen.
"Momma!" "Paige!" Both girls screamed for each other. Her momma was sitting down, why wouldn't she get up and help her? She wanted her mommy desperately...
She couldn't remember much after that just pain from hitting the floor and yelling and flames and smoke from the kitchen. Fire. It scared her. Her mother always said don't be afraid. Her description made it seem like a fantasy, like as brilliant as a gem. But her father used it as a means of torture and hatred.
Hatred. Oh how she loved to be smart at 8. She knew her parents hated each other and possibly her father hated her too. Hate. Dislike. Yes, she disliked her father. No. Hated with a passion. Run. Get out. Leave. No more pain then.
The little girl looked around the room. Doors? Windows? Yes. To her left was a wooden door, and she ran. Bright light. Sun. Oh how she loved to finally be outside again. Paige didn't need to think much to know she had to run, and run fast. She turned down an alley that led to a main road. Busy. She realized she was safe for now. She was so tiny she would be able to hide inside the huge crowd of people. She spent the whole day walking, running, anything to get away from the building she woke up in. What a mess she must have been...people kept staring at her or on occasion glaring. Dirty. She knew her hair must have been a hideous sight and her clothes were covered in dirt and blood. Pain. She still felt it, but physical. Arms. Legs. Burned? Cut? She wanted to cry; for momma and herself. Her father, pappa, was not something she should cry about. He caused all this pain but, she would not be a weak little girl that he thought she was. She was strong like her momma always said and would find a safe place to go to, maybe. It was dark and she was a little afraid now. Night. Paige had no where to go, lost. She felt like a helpless little girl. No. She wouldn't be anything her father called her. She would find a place to sleep for the night. Alley. There was a building there and it suddenly seemed quite comfy.
"What the heck? Shark!" screamed a boy. He was shorter than most his age and seemed quite upset over this sight next to their lodging house.
"Spot, what in da world are ya yellin' for?" Answered this Shark character. He was much older, around 16, and did not look happy at one of his boys screaming to him in the morning.
"There's this girl sleepin on our buildin'!" he exclaimed with a glare.
"All right all right, let me see." Here was a little child asleep; dirtied and bloodied and all wrapped in a ball. "Hmm, well let's take 'er in. She ain't in no shape to be out 'ere."
"She's a girlllll" whined Spot. "We don't need 'er roamin around!"
"I'm leader and I says she stays. Now move! She needs some help."
Paige woke up from yelling. Lots. Oww. Her head hurt. Warmth? Blanket. In sudden panic she sat up and screamed. Well now she's definitely scared. There's about 20 or so boys looking at her. Some looked curious while other just outright glared. They all had this roughness to them and she wanted to leave right now.
"Well what's ya name doll?" Suddenly asked this boy. He was tall and seemed to be the only one willing to ask her a question.
"I'm not allowed to talk to strangers." Was her answer.
"Ya just did smart one!" said a boy around her age, but he did not seem friendly either. He just looked funny because he was tiny like her too.
"Spot, shut up. Now I know ya must be a little scared, but yer at the Lodgin' House. Ok?"
"I wanna go home" Well now it's just hard. Pain. Crying, she didn't want to, the tears just came.
"Alright, I'll get chyou there. Now do ya know where ya live?" He seemed nice enough but she couldn't go home, was there even home left?
"No! Pappas mean, he hurt momma and me!" Crying, it's not fun. She just sat there huddled against the wall crying.
"Alright alright, calm down now. How bout ya just get some rest."
"Ok." Laying back down she hid under the blanket. "Uhm, I'm Paige." She said while hiding under the covers.
"Well welcome to da Brooklyn Newsies Paige."
