WARNING: These oneshots are not for the faint of heart. They are real, raw emotion and reality from children who are abused sexually by people they thought they could trust. I am not going to dance around the subject matter. I am going to be real with you. If you feel you cannot handle it, then I appreciate it, I know that, and I accept it. But these things need to be written. You need to know what it's like every day for these kids, voiceless from the monsters that control their lives and make them powerless. If you've been abused, then you can sympathize easily with Lissa. If you haven't, then you cannot possibly imagine the pain. Thank you.

S.O.S

Chapter Three

July 5, 1893

It took 33 days to cross the Atlantic Ocean. From Fenit to Ellis Island, it took us 33 days. People got sick and died on the voyage, having to be thrown overboard, where their bodies were claimed by the unyielding black waters. Sean kept us out of the deck when a sickness broke out, saying the fresh air would help keep me healthy. I wasn't terribly worried about it. I was healthy as an ox; I didn't get sick often, and when I did, it clearly us as quickly as it set in.

But there was so swaying Sean.

We didn't speak much to each other the first few days, but I suspected that Sean got little to no sleep, probably listening as I cried softly, deep into the night, before allowing sleep to overtake me.

Six days into the trip, he started speaking to me. I didn't cry that night, or any other night after that at all. I hated putting stress on him, because I knew that I was, and I hated it. I decided that was the reason he didn't speak to me for a few days. There was nothing to say, I supposed.

I was asleep on his shoulder when I was awoken by loud whispers. They were saying that we'd made it to Ellis Island. The place we'd been voyaging to. Sean smiled silently and pulled me out onto the deck with him. The breath was sucked from my lungs as I gazed upon the embankment, the sky filled with buildings and loveliness.

I looked up, staring in wonder at the large green woman that dissected the blue morning sky. She was tall, with a book in one hand and a light in the other. She was not a goddess, nor did she seem like anyone important. She was a simple woman, calling us forth onto this new adventure.

I decided that she was hope. Hope for something that was worth hoping for: freedom.

It took an eternity for us to make port, and an eternity and a half for us to be allowed to move off the ship. But when we were allowed, I found myself walking with a bit more buoyancy, holding Sean's hand tightly in my anticipation. Everything seemed so… alive here. There was so much noise and I didn't even mind the fact that it looked a little dirty. I expected that. It was a city.

But, goodness it was so exciting!

We were asked out names, ages, and ho much money we had. Sean pulled out a few Irish pounds from his pocket and the man behind the counter exchanged it for some odd looking bills and an assortment of coins. After giving us a six second once over from a doctor, we were deemed fit to enter, assigned a bunk and then pushed out of the way.

Sean and I ascended the large marble stairs and finally found our way to the room that was assigned to us. We got one bunk for the both of us, since there were many people all ready here. The bunks looked uncomfortable, but Sean all ready assured me that we weren't staying here long. He'd get a job somewhere and it would be just us.

I plopped myself down on the bunk that was assigned to us and he sat down beside me. I pulled the small knapsack I had into my lap, rummaging through it until my fingers curled around the tiny silver skeleton key.

"What're you doing?" he asked, watching me pull out the twine that bound my hair, threading the key onto it before I tied the loose ends together.

I smiled at him. "I want you to have this," I told him seriously, pressing the makeshift necklace into his hands. "Will you keep it safe?"

His blue eyes softened and he smiled. "Sure will, Liss," he agreed and placed the necklace around his neck. It looked nice on him. Fitting, even.

It was then that I noticed how tired he looked. Dark, bruise-like shadows filled under his eyes and his face looked tired. I felt awful. He must have seen my face fall because he frowned, too.

"What's wrong?"

I shook my head, biting my bottom lip. "You're tired." It wasn't a question.

Sean shrugged. "So?"

"So you should sleep," I said simply.

He must have been exhausted, because he didn't protest, just curled up and went to sleep. I smiled at him, yawning softly, and curled up beside him. It took be a while to fall asleep, because it felt like my body was still was rocking slightly from being on a boat for so long. But when sleep did come, I embraced it readily.

When I was roused from my sleep, I felt stiff but rested. Sean was nowhere to be found. I sat up and rubbed my eyes, hoping it was just my sleep-muddled brain that couldn't find Sean, but he wasn't here.

I stood up slowly and shuffled out to what seemed to be the front door, finding him sitting on the curb, throwing pebbles out onto the cobblestone road. I sat down beside him and glared at him until he looked over at me.

"You didn't sleep at all, did you?" I accused.

He grinned sheepishly. "I do so," he defended and then sighed when I continued to glare. "For a little bit, I did sleep."

I sighed. "You were supposed to sleep, Sean."

"I found a job," he said, changing the subject rather completely, and my brain was quickly redirected to his new statement.

I was surprised. "That was fast." He nodded, but didn't offer anymore information. "Okay, so what's the job?"

"Selling newspapers."

I laughed for a few moments, thinking he was kidding. Selling newspapers was not the most… well paying job, nor was it something you boasted about often. I knew about them from hearing stories about them in Dublin. Newsboys were dirty, rotten, and had no manners. I couldn't picture my Sean, sandy blond haired and blue eyed Sean Conlon being a newsboy. It didn't look right in my head.

"You got any better ideas?" he teased and nudged my shoulder playfully with his. I smiled at him.

"I guess not. So where are we going to live?" I asked.

"The state must give them housing. It's a nickel a night to stay, whatever that means," he said. We both still weren't too keen on the whole money situation, but I supposed that we were going to learn as we went.

"And we can both stay there?" I asked, just to make sure.

"Sure can. It'll be fine, Liss. I promised you I'd take care of you. It's the best I can do so far. And I'm not resorting to stealing. My dad would be mad," he said and we both laughed quietly at the thought.

Eventually, he stood up and pulled me along as well. We walked back in to the large castle structure to get our stuff.

"I'll take you to the Lodging House and we can get settled," he decided and clutched my hand, tugging me gently towards the ferry that would take us to the main land of New York.

I leaned against the railing out in the front, watching the water pass quickly. The ferry was smaller, so it went faster. I watched the land approached rapidly and hopped off when the ferry docked, after Sean paid the correct amount to the captain for taking us across the bay.

The main part of New York was even busier than Ellis Island. It was fabulous. Every single building seemed to whisper stories that they so ached to tell. Newsboys heckled everyone as they went by, shop keepers yelled out their wares, young ladies dressed in white skirts and blouses walked briskly by.

Everything was so incredibly loud and exciting, and I must not have heard Sean telling me to follow him. I was caught up in this exciting new world, a new world that screamed for me to jump in head first and embrace this new freedom, this new hope.

Until I realized that Sean was nowhere to be seen. I turned around and around, hoping to catch a glimpse of him, but there were too many faces. Too many faces that were not his. I started off down the street, hoping t find him standing on a street corner, waiting patiently for me to come and find him again.

But he wasn't there.

So I kept walking, looking around corners and into alleyways, hoping to find him. The only thing I didn't know was that he was walking purposefully in the opposite direction, not even knowing that I was gone.

This is for all of you lovely people. Know why? Because today July 21st, is the anniversary of our boys' strike. (Thanks to Adren who posted it on the NML). That's right, loves. :) If there was no strike, there would've been no movie, hence no Gabe Damon for us all to drool over/flytackleglomp/write fictions about. So, yay for that! Also, one more chapter before this is over! Kinda sad, but I'm sure you all are chomping at the dang bit for me to get the third of the trilogy out. I know, I know. Patience, young friends. In due time. :)

Oh, and I forgot to add this at the beginning, but I want to thank Miss Izabeal Finley for inspiring me with her amazing, life changing story. Honestly, dear, if not for you, my Lissa!muse would still be nervous and shy in the back of my head, afraid to tell her story to me, and to all of you. Maybe even to my Spot!muse. Teehee. So I just wanted to say thank you, and keep going. Because it's girls like you that make us all realize how seriously strong we can be, when we have to be strong. I luff you, Izzy. I really do.

CTB!

xx Wicked

PS- I've posted the link to the summer fanfiction contest on my profile. Vote for me perhaps? (I'm pushing for best couple but I'm not being picky or nothin'... C: )