SORRY IT'S SO SHORT, BUT I MIGHT STILL BE WORKING ON THIS?

This is a crazy idea, Celia, I thought to myself. You've officially lost it. I will be honest. Making your way down five flights of stairs with a bum leg is not fun. Doing it at two in the morning does not make it enjoyable either. It's quite dark then, but there I was doing it anyways. Using the railing to brace myself, I took one step at a time. The sounds of snoring from the bunk room faded away, leaving the Lodgehouse eerily quiet. All that echoed now was my footsteps against the carpet of the staircase. A smart person might now ask why I was going down to the lobby so early in the morning, and I'm going to be truthful. I had no idea. It all started when Jack threw a shoe at my head.

I awoke with a start and found a Newsboy boot lying on my pillow. The dull pain in my forehead led me to believe that the boot had been thrown and hit its target, my face. I grabbed it and sat up, ready to let my anger loose on the culprit. The room was silent other than the occasional snore or muttering for food, and my brother stood at the foot of my bed.

Jack looked wonderful as if he hadn't been in the Refuge at all. His grin was comforting; I had missed it greatly. He was oddly clean, wearing clothes I had never seen before. We never had the money to get new things, but maybe he passed a clothing drive at a nearby church on his way back.

"Jack! How did you g-?"

"What are you doing, Celia?" he asked.

"Well, I was sleeping until you threw your boot at my head," I answered with a frown. He didn't even let me speak, I thought.

"That's not what I meant."

"Then w-?"

"You've been laying on your butt for long enough."

That shut me up. How does he know? Maybe one of the boys told him? It's been almost a week since I had woken up and found I couldn't walk. I haven't left the Logdehouse since. Thankfully, I had enough saved up to pay for my stay this long, but tonight was the end of my funds. The money was gone.

"Jack, what am I supposed to do? I can't walk!" My voice raised to a shout, but none of the newsboys moved.

Jack had the nerve to laugh. "That's what's stopping you?"

I didn't say anything, looking down at the shoe in my hand. I wasn't coping well will with this whole situation. That much was true, but how was I supposed too? In a matter of twenty-four hours, I had lost my brother to the law and my ability to walk so I wasn't surprised that I was crying now. The bed creaked loudly as Jack sat down.

"Celia," he said, "you have never let anything hold you back before. We've never had it easy, kid. This isn't any different. I know you can do this." He pulled me into a hug.

I smiled, hugging him tighter. "I've missed you so much."

"I know."

"How did you get out of the Refuge anyway?"

"I didn't."

I woke up then and realized it was a dream, but the drive for something different was still evident. I dragged myself out of bed, and this brings back to where I was now. I finally reached to the lobby and looked at the clock. It had taken me close to thirty minutes to get down from the bunk room. I knew I was slow, but didn't know I was as slow as a turtle. I made my way to the storage closet, careful not to wake the caretaker. I opened the door and found exactly what I needed.