The police station was overrated.

By the time I finished the call, the culprit had left. When the police arrived they rushed the man to the hospital. They closed off the scene of the crime and stared at a blood puddle in the ground for half an hour. We watched all of this from the bedroom window.

We were all hoping that nothing else was required from us but we were wrong. On Monday, before everyone either left for work or school, the landlord appeared with an officer behind him.

Supposedly, we had to make an official statement down at the station. Uncle Roger couldn't be late for work. So, Aunt Rita, Rose and I made the hike down.

They asked us simple questions like what, when, and where. I happily answered all of them, the sooner I got out of there the better. I had a job, Mrs. Fringser would probably blow the roof off the place when I got there because I was going to be so late.

By the time we finished, it was Ten thirty. We were nearly out the doors when they hollered my Aunts name. The detective said something had come up and needed Rose. They told me to wait in the reception area.

Nearly every seat was taken. I plopped myself down in the middle of what looked like a drunk and a prostitute. How lovely.

They had already been talking before I had arrived and decided to add me to their conversation.

"What are you in here for? Sweetheart"

I turned to the presumed prostitute and answered.

"I was just making an official statement"

They both laughed.

"Aren't we all making statements?"

I glanced at the new voice. On his head was a patched fedora. His clothes were a dirty brown and the smell of alcohol radiated off of him.

"Names Tongue Licker and you are"?

I smiled at the funny name "Violet Jones"

The prostitute next to me perked up "I had a classmate called that back in high school!"

"Oh that's nice…" I trailed off. They seemed like nice people but if Aunt Rita got even the slightest whiff that I had been talking to what she liked to call "the vermin of the streets" she would tear my ear off.

"My name's Catherine but my street name is Calico"

I could tell why. She was dressed in a bright orange dress. Her hair was a mess of dirty blond locks and her fingers were adorned in giant fake rings, all orange. A real eye-catcher.

"You know if you ever need work" Catharine or Calico said "just go down to the docks and ask for me I'll set you up"

I shook my head vigorously "No that's okay. I work in a bakery"

She raised her eyebrows "Really? I could have sworn…Anyway, which bakery do you work at?"

I didn't see any harm in telling her where I worked at. If I still had a job.

She mentioned walking by there a couple of times. The drunk next to me rarely cut in but I could tell he was listening.

After fifteen minutes of polite conversation, my Aunt finally came out and she looked angry. I better get up before she saw me. As I walked away, Catharine called out

"See you soon!"

No she wouldn't

When I finally arrived at the bakery Aunt Rita explained what had happened and Mrs. Fringser only screamed for half an hour so it was okay. The day was rather bland and boring. My night was by far more interesting.

She showed up, the prostitute. She said that she just had to talk to me again. She didn't really give a reason why she just blabbered on and on and on and on…

Calico, as she insisted on being called, asked all about my personal life. I was rather put off by the whole thing. This was extremely creepy. How did she know when I would come out of work? Why did she care so much?

I asked this but in a polite way.

"How long did you wait out there?" The bakery closed at eight but I didn't leave until ten.

She paused and looked away before smiling widely and squealing.

"Oh my Gosh! Look!" She pointed out towards the street "I would love to stay and talk but my friend is here"

With one last smile she ran off towards the invisible figure. I blinked twice before shaking my head. I'm just going to pretend this was totally normal.

The week passed uneventful. I spent it trying to make sense of what had happened Monday night. It was abnormal and off-putting. I couldn't talk about it to my aunt because she would flip and Uncle Roger would have just nodded his head, 'hmm-ing' the entire conversation. It worked on Aunt Rita but not on me.

I didn't work on Sundays, I stayed home and did nothing. Aunt Rita said it was unhealthy to spend so much time indoors.

"You need more sun. Remember what happened to Claire, she didn't get enough sun and she got anemia"

I rolled my eyes. "She was pregnant Aunt Rita. I'm not"

She grabbed my dirty plate and slammed it against the sink.

"It wasn't a suggestion Violet"

With a sigh. I stood from my chair and headed for the door.

"Should I bring Fletcher and Rose?" I asked, turning the knob.

"No" She said firmly.

Bemused, I step back through the door. She always made me bring them along.

"Why?"

Glaring, she stopped washing the dishes and turned towards me, wet hands on her hips.

"How old are you? Violet"

I could see where this was going.

Glancing at the ceiling, I answered. "Sixteen"

She nodded. "And when did I meet your uncle Roger?"

Trying to contain another eye-roll I responded "Sixteen"

"Exactly. Now there's your answer"

Glaring at her, I walked out and slammed the door.

Halfway down the stairs. I heard a shout.

"Don't come back 'till five!"

What the crap was I supposed to do until then?!

This was not fair. I worked, I did my part. I should be allowed to do whatever I want. This was so stupid. I was too young to be worrying about something like that. I was sixteen for crying out loud! Just because back in the Stone Age people would marry each other before they hit puberty, it didn't mean that we had to follow in their footsteps and what was I supposed to do Anyway? Just go up to some random guy and go 'Hey my crazy Aunt wants me to find a boyfriend and you seem like you have potential so how about it?'

One of these days, I swear I'm going to just jump off the Brooklyn Bridge

Stomping as I walked, I pushed through all the people. Where was I supposed to go? It's not like I had any friends. All I did was work. Maybe I should go get some friends. What did a normal teenager do?

Did they like pick a place where they would meet and then … do teenager stuff? Gosh, I hate myself.

I was awkwardness on legs. Hoping for friends was too much of a target maybe I should just walk around and see what I found.

I found nothing, that's what. Just shops and cafes. I would have gone in, if I had money but I was penny less. Not a dime to my name. I had no idea what time it was but I was not going to risk going back too early and facing the wrath of my Aunt.

It was around the middle of May the sun went down around eight thirty, it was just barely starting to go down.

Why are you so slow sun?

I kept mindlessly walking about to turn a corner when I collided with something or rather someone.

"Watch were you're going Doll" The stranger said.

I looked at my aggressor.

A Newsie. Striking grey eyes glared at me. His hair was cover by a bowler hat, he wore a checkered red and white shirt with matching red suspenders.

I was not in the mood to be stepped over today.

"I was watching were I was going. Maybe you should look where you were going"

With a glare, I side stepped the stranger and continued on my way but not for long.

The stranger reached out and snatched my elbow.

"Who do you think you're talking to?"

You have got to be kidding me. Who was this guy?

"Look I don't know who you are or who you think you are but if you don't let me go I will shout bloody murder"

The stranger scoffed. "You're a far, far, far from home if you don't know who I am"

I rolled my eyes. Man, did this guy have an ego.

Sighing, I responded "Yes, yes I am. Now can you please let me go?"

Glaring at me, he let me go. "I better not see you again cause if I do I won't be so forgiving"

Holding back a laugh, I nodded and tried to give him a serious face while still smiling.

I walked away. Chuckling to myself. He was just a newsie, what could he possibly do to me?