Disclaimer: I don't own any of the original characters from the Disney movie, "Newsies." The only character I claim ownership over is Shadow.
Okay, guys. Before we start this thing, I want to share something with you. Something quite pathetic, and in my opinion, pretty hysterical. While I was cleaning out my closet yesterday I found my old journal from first grade. In it was my first attempt at writing a story. The spelling is completely horrible, and I'm not even sure what some of it says. I'm going to type it exactly as written. So here we go. This is how I started off as a writer.
"Thats the wish I allwes wanted" - By 7-year-old Maria.
"Wons apon a time tere was a girl. She was very sad. Avy kid she now mad fun of her becose she liter then them. that nite she saw a soting star. Wut will i wist for she sade. ah a frand she shoted. The next morning her ant sade I have a gift for you. She braig the girl into her backyard. ther rite in front uf her ther was a huj avel with a blacit on in her ant puld the blancit off. It is a dolfin she crid and it be cam her frand."
WTF!? A DOLPHIN!? Wow...Just for putting up with that, you guys get an extra long chapter of newsieness. :)
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Skittery and I sat side by side in a booth table at the restaurant. I didn't feel too comfortable sitting that close to him, but if it had to be anyone I was glad it was Skittery.
A few moments later, two newsies slid into the seat across from us. "Hey, guys." Skittery greeted them. They smiled at him and looked to me. I kept my eyes down at the table in order to avoid their glances.
"Hi... I'm Mush." One of the boys said. He had short curly brown hair and a warm innocent smile. He held out his hand to shake mine. I looked from his hand, up to his eyes, down to his hand again. His smile disappeared. "A'right, or not... Dat's fine, too."
"Me names Kid Blink," the other boy said, "But most people jus' call me Blink." He had blonde hair and wore an eye patch over his left eye. I nodded quickly to show I had heard him, and then let my gaze drop away from them again.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw them give questioning looks to Skittery. He just shook his head and shrugged. The waiter came by and took the orders for all the tables filled with newsies. I ordered a water and a sandwich, but aside from that I didn't utter one word to anyone.
Being with this many people made me so uncomfortable. I was used to being alone practically all the time. Except for the crowds on the street in New York City, of course. But the people there never tried to start up conversations with me, like the newsies were trying to do.
I would either shake my head yes or no, and if it was a question that required an actual answer I would just shrug. After a while they all just stopped trying to start conversations with me.
Everyone except for Skittery, who would still talk. He didn't expect an answer and I didn't give him one, but he still spoke to me. Normally this would bother me, but oddly I didn't mind. I actually liked listening to him.
When we finished eating, we all counted up the correct amount of money and left it on the table. We stood up to leave, but someone came in through the door.
Three people, actually. They were dressed as newsies, but they wore serious expressions on their face. The carefree expressions the Manhattan newsies had disappeared when these three walked through the door. The restaurant grew quiet and uneasy.
There was one who walked in front of the other two. I thought this was strange, because he was the smallest of the three. He carried a black cane with a gold handle. His sandy blonde hair was long enough to be seen from underneath his newsboy cap, and he had smoky blue eyes.
"Conlon!" Jack said, taking a step forward from the rest of us. He spit in his hand and held it out in front of him. "Hey ya, Jackie Boy. How's it goin'?" He asked, spitting in his own and hand shaking Cowboy's.
"Not bad. So what brings ya to Manhattan, Spot?" Cowboy asked. "Nuttin' too important. I'se just gotta talk wit ya and den I'se headin' back to Brooklyn. 'Bout business stuff. Da Bronx ain't too fond of stayin' in their own territory an'-- Hey Jackie Boy, ya got a new newsie. A goil, huh? Dat ain't very common..." Spot said, walking over to where I was standing.
I started to turn around and go back into the crowd of newsies so he would leave me alone. I didn't like to be the center of attention. "Hey, where ya goin'?" He asked, grabbing my wrist.
"Oh... She ain't exactly a newsie, Spot... she's just—" Jack was interrupted. "Let go of me!" I yelled a little louder than I expected to, I pulled my arm back quickly.
Spot's expression turned neutral. If he was surprised by my outburst, he sure didn't show it. Still, the way he looked at me showed he didn't like to be given orders.
He stood glaring at me, and I glared back. For a second I thought he might even throw a punch at me. Someone put their hand on my shoulder to comfort me. I flinched at first, but strangely I calmed down when I saw it was Skittery.
To my surprise a smirk appeared across Spot's face and he chuckled. "Got yourself a hostile goil dere, huh Skittery?" He said.
"She's not my goil." "I ain't his goil." The both of us exclaimed at the same time. Skittery's face turned slightly pink and he glanced at me, while I looked down at the floor.
The room became uncomfortably quiet again, and Cowboy broke the silence. "A'right... So Conlon, we'se headin' back to da lodgin' house. Why don't ya come along for da walk and we'll talk then. You'se gotta head in dat direction to get back to Brooklyn anyways..." Cowboy offered.
With one more puzzled glance at me, Spot turned around to talk to Jack. "Shoah, Jackie Boy. Dat sounds good..." he replied, slipping his cane through one of his belt loops. The murmuring began to return to the newsies, and soon they were talking at full volume again.
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I sat on the floor against the couch, a few feet from everyone else. The other newsies were scattered around the lodging house lobby, but most of them were involved in a card game. I stared at them, letting my vision blur out. It appeared that I was watching the card game, but I was really just in deep thought.
"Ya know how to play?" Skittery asked me, looking up from his cards. I broke out of my thoughts and shook my head from side to side. "Ya want me to teach ya?" he offered. I shook my head again.
Cowboy came in from finishing his conversation with Spot. He closed the door behind him and sat down on one of the chairs scattered around the room. "Apparently da Bronx newsies want Spot's territory... He ain't too happy 'bout dat." Cowboy explained to the rest of them. "Of course wit his ego, he's sure he can take 'em. But he just wanted to know if we had his back jus' incase."
The other newsies laughed at Jack's comment about Spot's ego. I had only met him for a few seconds and I already knew it was true. "Look, Speakin' of which..." Blink said, looking at me. "Shadow... Spot Conlon ain't used to bein' told what to do, so... Maybe you should, ya know..."
"Watch what ya say around him... He ain't a person you wanna get on da bad side of..." Racetrack finished for him. They're telling me to watch what I say around him? They should be tellin' him to lower his self-image a bit...
"You guys may be scared of a lil' shrimp wit a cane, but I ain't." I mumbled, getting up. I walked over to the stairs and started to climb them. Just before I went in through the bunk room door, I heard Race mumble, "I think I liked her better when she didn't say nuttin'..."
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I lied in my bunk, staring at the wooden bars above me that were holding the other mattress in place. I thought I would be happy to just be alone, but instead thoughts raced through my head.
I heard someone come in through the door and approach me. I didn't have to turn my head to see who it was, either. I figured he would sit on the bunk next to me, but surprisingly I felt the mattress sink down on one side of me.
My mind told me to get up and move away from him, but for some reason I didn't. I just let him sit beside me as I pretended to ignore his presence. "They'se just tryin' to be friendly, Shadow...Jus' give 'em a chance..." Skittery reasoned. When I didn't reply for a while he sighed, resting his head in his hand.
I stole a glance at him, but returned my gaze to the bunk above me before he could notice. "It don't matter." I said, finally breaking the dead silence. "I'se gonna be gone first chance I get, soon as Kloppman lets me."
Skittery turned to look at me. His face didn't show any emotion, but his eyes did... It wasn't anger. It was more like... hurt? Nah couldn't be...
"Why do ya wanna leave so bad? Ya know... ya could just stay here. Be a newsie. It ain't exactly high livin', but ya learn to like it." Skittery said. "I told ya, a'right!? I'm out of heah. First chance I get!"
"For what!?" Skittery asked, starting to raise his voice. "To go back on da streets!? So ya can be a thief again!?" His words stung me and I didn't know why. I had been called a thief before, because that's what I was... but for some reason when it came from Skittery's mouth it hurt much more. Maybe it was because he was the closest thing to a friend I had. Or maybe it was something else...
"Don't you dare call me dat..." I hissed angrily, narrowing my eyes at him. "Why not, Shadow... It's what ya are!" He replied. "I stole food because I had to. So I could survive! I had no choice!" I yelled back.
"Yeah, well now you'se got a choice! You'se bein' offered a job, a place to stay, 'nd maybe even a few friends! And you'se gonna toin dat down to live on da streets!? Why would ya do somethin' dat stupid!?" He asked.
"I can take care of meself, okay? I don't need people. I like bein' alone, just me, by myself. Obviously, ya don't seem to get dat. Because you still botherin' me." I spat.
"Why do ya hate udda people so much, Shadow!? Especially when dey're only tryin' to help! Why!?" He shouted.
I let out a heavy sigh full of frustration and anger. "Ya wanna know why, Skittery!? Why I hate people so much!?" I yelled, quickly changing my location so I was sitting beside him.
"Because me mudda beat me, okay!? Real bad. Afta' me fadda died, she toined to drinkin'! Me olda brudda left, sayin' he just couldn't take it anymore. He said he'd come back for me and he never did! He was da only one who cared bout me, and he never came back for me. So I ran away. 9 years old. Alone in New York City. I couldn't take da teasin' I got at da orphanage, neither. From da udda kids because I never talked to anyone. So I ran away from dat, too! Does dat answer ya question, Skittery!? Does it!?" I yelled.
The only noise in the room was my heavy breathing. My eyes were filling up with tears, but I refused to let them drop. I glared at Skittery, never breaking eye contact. He stared back at me, but not in anger. His facial expression was soft now as he searched my eyes for an emotion other than rage.
"Shadow..." he said, almost whispering. "I'se real sorry..." His voice was filled with sympathy. Skittery put his hand on my shoulder, but as soon as he did I shook it off. I turned away from him so he couldn't see my face. "I don't want your pity." I spat.
He sighed, and when he exhaled it sounded uneven and ragged. My tears stung my eyes but I wouldn't blink, keeping them held back. "There's a difference between pity and carin' 'bout someone, Shadow..." he whispered.
I didn't know what to think or say. So I decided on my usual defense. My main way of keeping people out. I stood up to run away from it, but he grabbed my wrist and pulled me towards him.
I stumbled backwards into him, and he wrapped his arms around me. I tried desperately to break free of his grasp, but he held onto me and refused to let me go. There was no use in fighting him. I was no match for his strength.
Surprising both Skittery and myself, I let my head drop onto his chest and I buried my face in my shirt. I'm not sure how long we stayed there, but he just held me as I surrendered to letting the tears roll down my cheeks.
After what seemed like forever, he finally broke the silence. "Ya may have been screamin' at me, but at least ya speakin' to me in full sentences now..." Skittery said. When I didn't reply, he shuffled around so his chin was resting on the top of my head. "I would never hoit ya on purpose, Shadow. I promise." He whispered.
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Thanks for reading, guys :D Reviews would be great, (speaking of which, thanks to the people who have reviewed) and I'll have another chapter out by tomorrow.